Serious Wish
by Illucia
Summary: When Sirius got serious about a thing, that's when others ran. He imagined Harry being rich, famous, hunted by girls he had no interested in, living in Grimmauld place with the crazy elf until the end of his days, bored out of his mind. Well, Sirius would seriously have to take care of that, even if it was the last thing he'd do. As it turned out, it was. HP/Lotr.
1. Let's Take A Look Around

**Title: **Serious Wish

**Disclaimer: **Potterverse doesn't belong to me. I write this in order to have fun, not for profit.

**Summary: **When Sirius got serious about a thing, that's when others ran. He imagined Harry being rich, famous, hunted by girls he had no interested in, living in Grimmauld place with the crazy elf until the end of his days, bored out of his mind. Well, Sirius would seriously have to take care of that, even if it was the last thing he'd do. As it turned out, it was.

**Rating: **T

**Warnings: **This is aiming to be a slash story, boy/boy, but probably doesn't get there in this story. AU, powerful!Harry. Crossover HP/Lotr. This is also somewhat slow paced.

I owe a huge thanks to my beta Crystal who helped me in the beginning.

**Chapter One - Let's Take A Look Around**

He figured this was how it felt to be sorry to be alive. Whatever horde of runaway Hippogrifs had trampled over him should be on guard and very, very sorry. But right now, he was too sore to begin planning revenge.

He tried opening his eyes, wary of moving anything else. His body just about thrummed with the expectation of pain. And his eyes were crusted shut so he had to rely on his other instincts first. He knew he was in no immediate danger because his magic would've jolted him up by now otherwise.

He could feel he was lying on something hard, a small movement of his fingers confirmed that it was most likely a wooden floor. He rubbed his fingers together; they squeaked and had a film of dirt on them, so rather it was a grimy wooden floor then. Carefully he took a deep breath and concentrated on his surroundings.

When he focused, he first heard his heart thumping, and then blood whooshing in his ears, then, right under the surface, was his magic sizzling. His consciousness exploded outwards. He could hear birds singing on the roof, there was a warm touch of fresh air that came from a nearby window; there was an insect that was buzzing somewhere close by but that was it. No creek of wood to indicate anyone else was around. There was no talking or anyone else breathing. He was alone.

Harry let out his breath and bit back a curse when pain jolted in his back and side. Just to make doubly sure there was no threat nearby and to _see_ where he was at, he let his magic shimmer about and sent it out in a slow pulse. It filled the small room he was in and the corridor beyond, it filled the three story building he was in and finally shimmered out once it was about 10 feet from the walls. He was truly all alone, somewhere he couldn't instantly recognize.

And so he decided that he was not a prisoner. This was an interesting change in things, kidnapping wise.

It had been a while since someone had managed to abduct him. Whether it was some grudge bearing former death eater or a new dark lord wannabe or – here he shuddered – an obsessed fan. Not that he was lousy at defence; he just didn't care that much anymore. It wasn't like they were able to really hurt him. Except those demons called fans, what they wanted to do with him gave him some serious mental scars.

But back to his current situation, he was somewhat blurry on his last memory.

"Better get up, Potter," he muttered to himself and put more force on his magic currently healing him. Even if no one was about now, that didn't mean it would stay that way.

Besides, he was uncomfortably sure he had no idea where his clothes were.

He groaned and turned to lie on his side. Spasms of pain spread to every limb, yet he was not bleeding. Maybe he had a cracked rib or two.

He finally managed to open his eyes to see a somewhat dusty room and a lot of filth. The walls were so dirty they looked black. The floor was worn out. The small tower he was in was obviously old. There was no windowpane or broken glass. Just stone.

He got to his feet unsteadily and stumbled to the door. It wasn't locked. It squeaked loudly when he pushed it open. Behind the heavy and rusty door was a dark hallway. The only light was coming from a small window at the end of it. There was no sign of his clothes or any sort of cloth he could use. This had potential to become a very embarrassing incident. The only way down seemed to be through a half open hatch with ladders.

After he floundered his way down, clumsier than Tonks, and was a bit steadier on his feet, he realized that even though he was wandless, it didn't prevent _him_ from conjuring something to wear. Learning that sort of skills had been a necessity back when Voldemort was still around. Wandless magic that is, not specifically conjuring clothes.

Harry shuddered when his brain flashed through ideas of him, naked in Voldemort's lair. He blamed Seamus for all those sort of thoughts. That boy was very inventive and chatty while drunk.

But still, it always put a smile on his face remembering how incensed Hermione had been when it became clear that only Neville, in addition to him, was able to show some promise in controlling magic wandlessly, at least at their age. Saying to her that she would surely master it in the next few decades had not been appreciated, at all. He just thought she needed some consolation after ranting to him for two, three or nine hours straight.

Harry concentrated and then twirled his hand for simple grey shorts to appear. He pulled them on and made a mental note that conjured clothes usually didn't last that long. No need to forget that. He also did simple sandals because the floor still didn't look any cleaner than the walls. Although in this floor he could see clear signs of use. The atmosphere wasn't anything that would suggest that the people here would be friendly.

"What the hell!" He yelped when he stumbled after his first steps. Then his brain finally realized what was wrong. Well, one thing more to the list of thirty.

He was small. Short. Tiny in fact.

Gone was his almost 5' 9" frame which he had quite liked. His feet were small in the shoes he had, in his mind, conjured to fit his earlier stature. He had the same problem with the shorts. It looked like he was barely 4".

"I'm a midget!" he wailed. "Fred and George are so gonna pay," he muttered while hoping this really was one of the twins' pranks.

Harry ransacked the house, not finding much of use. No obvious kitchen nor bedrooms, just mostly empty and dusty rooms one after another. He looked outside but didn't recognize the scenery. There were mountains somewhere in the horizon and some thick forests that seemed never ending.

Finally on the first floor he found some clothes. Unfortunately they were in a horrid state. He couldn't tell the colour for they were so dirty and smelled as if someone had wrapped them around a rotting pumpkin and decided to leave them on the sun for a few days. Several cleaning charms earned him a grey shirt. He didn't bother with the trousers. They were a lost cause and not only because of the size. These clothes could've fit Hagrid!

So, after freaking out some more and looking utterly ridiculous, he ventured outside. What he needed was a stick.

~o~

"Point me Hogwarts!" Harry cried out for the third time, literally pushing his magic in the spell and nearly exploding his twig. He scratched his head, "This is weird."

He had found many sticks and finally one that seemed to respond to his magic. He didn't need a wand but point-me-spell was pretty pointless without something to show the direction. The twig was neither holly nor anything he recognized but then again herbology had always been Neville's forte.

He had done his focusing exercise, trying to spread his magic as far as he could in order to find any other magical beings. But had no luck. There was nothing for miles, nothing obviously magical. He actually couldn't detect anything but animals. And what was funnier was that the magic itself felt odd; which in itself was a strange idea. He had always known magic but here it felt as if he was speaking a different language.

Then he had tried apparating to different places but that had gotten him nowhere. Literally. After the fifth try he finally put so much magic in the spell that he ended up fading a few feet to the left through some sort of haze. It was as if the whole world was covered in light smoke. It was an interesting result and something to investigate later, but nothing to soothe his worry now. He was usually able to apparate over whole countries with ease! And wards hadn't been an issue either. Something the goblins had disliked immensely.

His last idea had been a point me spell and the stick. North worked but places didn't. A lot of good that did for him. He should've brought Hermione along. She would've suggested at least ten other things they could try by now to find their way home.

Harry sat on a nearby stone and thought. He had no idea where he was, he had nothing with him. His only help was a stick and wonky magic. Thank Merlin he didn't wear glasses anymore or he'd have been half blind as well. Apparating was working but not to any place he knew. He could apparate where he could see but it was as if his magic didn't know where any place was that he wanted to go. He couldn't sense magical beings anywhere near him.

He shrugged. It seems like he had done it again. He had gotten himself in mysterious trouble with very little to no help. He had to wonder if Dumbledore was still alive and playing games with him again. But no, it probably was just his luck that had done it this time.

Harry sighed and lay back on the warm stone. He looked at the unbelievably blue sky and the huge white clouds drifting by. At least the weather was good. It could have been raining.

This was way better than facing Fluffy, or a basilisk or whomping willow or any other half-arsed adventure he had had while in the school. While he pondered about those adventures and the numerous ones after those, he twisted his hand and a glass of cold milk appeared.

Harry frowned. It was just too bad his most recent memories refused to come. He remembered visiting the ministry the day before. Having lunch with Ron and discussing with Hermione the latest spell he was crafting. Then he had gone to Diagon Alley, had ice cream and done some shopping. He had come home, gone through his mail. Then he had taken a nap in the garden while trying to read a really boring old book. After that he had gone and met with Seamus in the Leaky Cauldron, he had been almost late. Ron had joined them later on, being very late. It had been a relaxing day and he thought he had gone to bed at the end.

Harry sipped his milk while deep in thought and absently snapped his fingers in his other hand to have a chicken and ham sandwich appear.

He wasn't a master occlumens but he knew if someone tried to tamper with his memories. There was no sign of that. His memories simply refused to come as if there was nothing to remember.

"Well, there's nothing to it then," He said to himself, dusted his hands and got up. He would have to get himself out of here by more traditional means. But first he had to decide in what direction to go, after all, well planned was already half-done. And after some food in him things always looked brighter.

He climbed on the rock he was lying on and then apparated himself to the roof of the tower to get a better view. It seemed he had gotten used to his new body already seeing that nothing got splinched. This was a huge relief considering he couldn't exactly count someone to find him and put him back together.

Even though the roof wasn't the most steady lookout spot, the view was magnificent. It was a bright sunny day and the land was truly beautiful. Huge fields of green grass waved gently in the wind as far as his eyes could see. At times the grass took on blue hues so it was easy to imagine it was a huge ocean lazily moving about. Occasionally bigger rocks or small yellower hills broke the sea of green or few trees sprung up. On the horizon were mountains in almost every direction and a huge forest right ahead of him. Harry brushed a hand over his eyes and when he next looked out his eyes had a golden hue.

He blinked a few times, it always surprised him just how sharp everything got with this charm. Looking to north now he was able to see the forest stretching all the way to the far away mountains. There was also a small river next to the far away trees. To his right he could see a long stretch of grass and a gigantic lake in the distance. Perhaps there were some fields of grain next to the lake, he couldn't quite make it out but if there were fields then surely there were farmers.

South was filled with dark, unwelcoming mountains. From the mountains he could see a giant river starting. When he followed the river northward, he saw big planes of grass and a lush forest. A river that big was sure to have towns along it. He could also see mountains in that direction, right behind the river but those mountains didn't appear to continue far. There was more green and perhaps a big lake in that direction as well.

"Hmm, looks like it's either left or right then. Left, right, left..." Harry muttered to himself and looked contemplatively to both ways. Then he made up his mind and apparated back down.


	2. Meeting Three Nice Fellows

**Chapter Two - Meeting Three Nice Fellows**

Left it was.

Harry had cast a few charms on his clothes and shoes to keep him more comfortable during his trek. The journey didn't look that long. If luck was on his side he might be at the river by nightfall and breakfast tomorrow would already be offered by Kreacher. But the problem was he didn't want to just apparate around. That way he might miss someone who could help him and he had to admit it, a friendly face would be welcome right about now.

Besides, now that he was paying attention, it seemed that whenever he was apparating he went through that mist. The one he had seen when he 'phased'. The mist felt odd and odd magic wasn't likely to be nice magic. His gut also told him to be wary and he had learnt long ago to listen to that.

"I miss my broom," he sighed and wiped perspiration from his forehead. Then he realized that he didn't need to _walk._ Not that he wanted to start designing brooms here in the middle of nowhere and without the precision of a wand but McGonagall had taught them how to transfigure animals since his third year in school and he thought himself somewhat proficient when it came to using magic.

Half an hour later Harry was running his fingers through his hair and tugging it aggravated. This wasn't supposed to be _that _hard. He just wanted a horse with a friendly temper. Or a small pony.

He had found a big block of wood, transfigured it even bigger and then started to change it into a living animal. And he had gotten – well, something. Maybe he should've concentrated a bit better because the thing in front of him resembled more a boar than a horse. But it did have four legs and seemed to be pretty fast. Harry flicked his hand at the thing and changed it into a small rock, before it even got the chance to materialize till the end.

His second attempt resulted in much the same. He must have missed something during that transfiguration lecture. Or then he had just forgotten it, after all it had been three or so years since he last was in school. What he really thought was wrong here was the magic itself. He had never really thought about his connection with it but while he used to feel magic that was filled with life and eager to hear him, here it was all very different. There was plenty of magic, he could sense that but it just wasn't the same and maybe that was making all his spells go wonky. Magic here felt… old. Powerful. It was like magic earlier had felt like melted chocolate, tasty and warm and flowy. But now here it felt rather more like a steaming cup of hot chocolate with whip cream and a cherry on top. Very much different but still the basics were the same. It was all very frustrating.

"I really, really wish Hermione was here," he sighed once again.

Nevertheless, Harry decided that riding on the thing _might _prove to be better than walking so it was worth a try.

"I shall call you – Krull," he said proudly. It was, after all, his beast with four legs that didn't look like a horse.

Half an hour later, had someone been around to see it, they would've seen something that might've made them question their sanity but would've been amusing the same. Something that looked like a grey sack of potatoes jumping up and down on the back of a huge brown boar was speeding onwards. The screaming and shouting coming from the potatoes would've been particularly hilarious.

~o~

Harry felt sorry for his feet, screw that, he felt sorry for himself. He had not done this much walking around since his seventh year and their lets-annoy-Voldemort camping trip. He looked back once more; the tower wasn't getting any smaller. Maybe there was an evil spell in this place that prevented you from getting anywhere or then he needed to get into shape. He sat gingerly on the ground to rest. Being a child did not help his endurance at all. Small steps and all that.

Krull had not been one of his best ideas, riding it had been an idea that should've been scrapped the moment it entered his head. The beast was happily digging the ground thirty feet from him. Odd how sedate it was when no one was riding it or trying to kick it and curse it or just closer than ten feet over all. Vicious beast.

Harry took his shoes off and rubbed his feet. He was sure he had blisters after the three hours of walking he had done since his riding incident. Not to mention the bruises his behind had from that brief but fast ride or would have if he hadn't healed them but they still counted. He could still feel them! Perhaps boots would be better suited for long journeying and apparating was starting to feel even better idea. If he skipped a genial wizard or two, so what. He could always find more.

At least he did enjoy the peace and the scenery here. He looked around and had to admit the landscape still took his breath away. Everything was so full of life, even magic felt more powerful. This place put Hogwarts to shame. Not to mention that back in Britain everybody knew him and someone was always around to the point that he felt like suffocating. The worst was when he saw how much he reminded people of the past. True, they did remember he did good things and they were always so awed when meeting him but they also remembered all the suffering and losses.

He was treated like public property. He had learnt to live with it but not like it. Even muggle world wasn't an escape ever since the whole knighting ceremony that both ministries had apparently insisted. Kingsley had blabbed about co-working with muggles and how it would help right the wrongs of the past or some drivel like that. A Potter would of course be a suitable example. It was expected really. Many, many things were expected of him.

Harry sighed. He really needed a holiday but there always seemed to be something important to do. And where would he go? Last time he had visited a muggle cinema, he had had to sign twenty autographs and in the middle of the movie someone had pinched him from behind. When he visited Diagon Alley, there were always reporters and well-wishers around in hordes ten minutes after he was spotted. He was always forced to leave or have aurors arrive to escort him from shop to shop which was ridiculous. Cameras were flashing, people shouting stupid questions and the next few weeks the papers would once again be filled with idiotic speculation and stories about what he had done, bought, talked about. When he had visited France, the idea had been that no one would expect him to be there and in the first day he had been invited to three different balls and been flocked with owls when one of the mail wards had crashed on foreign soil. That had been a hoot.

While he couldn't say he liked all aspects of his life but it was tolerable. He had his own house, too much gold in Gringotts, a house-elf to cook pretty good breakfasts and he had his friends. But sometimes it felt like a prison he was unable to escape. He just wanted to be – Harry. That was pretty much what he had always wanted. And being here, free and unbothered, he just felt he had almost forgotten who Harry really was.

"I'm not getting all maudlin about my life now," he muttered and got up. He would find a solution to all of it in time. As well as figure what had gone wrong with his height. He just hoped, really hoped that he had not gone back in time or something such rot. Tempus charm was not co-operating.

"Come on Krull, let's get moving again," he called and looked for the boar while walking. Thus he tripped on a stone and landed painfully on the ground. Krull passed him by while he was lying there spread-eagle and spitting out grass and he could've sworn the beast was laughing.

~o~

The day was slowly turning into evening and Harry had reached few trees. The whole country was more uneven than he had first believed but small details from so far away hadn't been clear and he obviously had been wrong in his calculations of distance. His boar was happily wondering around the small forest, it was probably the best place for it to stay. Harry was having a break and munching on an apple and contemplating on how he could speed up his journey.

That was when he noticed something moving far away. He had noticed it earlier but thought it was nothing but a few boulders or bushes or big bears or something. Now, he could clearly see someone moving closer to him. They were still far away but they were definitely people.

Harry smiled eagerly and had to push down his first instinct to shout out to them. Wouldn't do to give the first impression that he was totally crazy.

Ten minutes later his eagerness had shifted to wariness. There were three figures walking towards him on two legs but it was beginning to seem like they weren't actually human. And not that he had anything against magical beings or most beasts but he could already feel anxiety setting in and his magic gathering. That was never a good sign and he had learnt to trust his magic. Despite the odd behavior of it in this place, he had no reason to doubt it in this. He was man enough to admit that there was some truth in the old saying of better being safe than sorry. Or as Hermione liked to call it 'subverting his Gryffindor tendencies'.

Harry hid behind a bush and followed the three approaching figures carefully. The bush was small but now his new size was an advantage. Something told him it was beneficial to his health not to confront them straight away. Or maybe it was the huge axe the tallest of the three was waving around.

They approached with good speed, obviously more used to hiking than he was. Carefully Harry waited until they were close enough for a listening charm. He hoped they weren't wizards and if they were that they wouldn't take it personally.

"_búbhosh kha'z pisna..."_ was all Harry heard before the one on the left hit the talker on the head. That lead to some scuffling and it seemed they all carried axes. How fun. After a bit of an argument the trio stayed quiet and simply marched on, the last one obviously sulking.

Harry disillusioned himself and sneaked away from his bush. He was crawling on the ground, trying to get closer. He didn't recognize the language so he really had only one way to go, seeing he couldn't just let them walk away either. They were the first things on two legs he'd seen the whole day. He sneaked on their path and waited for them to walk pass him. It would be easy to stun them that way. Harry shook his head. What a slytherin he'd make.

The closer they got, the more nervous he became. He had never seen anyone who looked like them. Not even hags. They were ugly in every sense of the word. Flat faces, almost no nose, sharp looking teeth and green filth seemed to cling on their skin and teeth. Broad shoulders covered in armor that looked very much like what he had left behind in the tower. He was suddenly really relieved that he had woken before these fellows got there.

Harry's plans went south when not twenty feet from him the tallest one began sniffing.

"_Tark!" _It barked and then turned its head and continued sniffing suspiciously in Harry's direction.

Harry's instincts rouse to the surface and he muttered an old plea to air, for the wind to gather around him and to tie his scent around himself. This was a lot like dealing with werewolves during the war. His magic was ready at his fingertips and coiled inside him, ready to strike. They were standing very close and he had to admit, they looked much more dangerous than a bunch of death eaters.

The two alongside the leader seemed confused and looked around themselves nervously. When they didn't see anything, they began to act up.

"_Khuuz na!" _The other whined and angered the leader who growled while still staying alert and searching. When the last one started barking as well, the leader turned to them and that was when Harry struck.

A wide, angry red beam shot from him towards the trio and only one had time to look surprised before they all crumbled to the ground stunned. Harry dispelled the charms around him and walked towards the creatures while his magic made sure they were out and stayed so. A few extra stunners never hurt him and he doubted it would do so to these three trolls either.

He grabbed the leader's head and made a face. He could feel his fingers getting sticky and smelly. It really didn't even feel like skin, more like burnt leather. Wanting the moment to be as short as possible, he forced the eyes open a bit, concentrated on focusing his magic and pushing it towards his enemy's mind.

It was nothing like reading a human. This creature's mind was dark, so very dark and primal. There was hunger and rage. The thing wanted to eat human flesh, wanted to taste it – again. There was a flash of a man, fighting and the _uruk,_ for that was what the beast called itself and others of its race, approached the man from behind. The man never saw the attack coming and he, the uruk, bit into the man's neck. Like some vampire it growled and when the man crumbled to the ground, it cried out victory.

Harry pushed onwards, now purposely avoiding any even remotely active thoughts or memories. Snape's words echoed in his own head, 'A mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at your leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of the skulls, to be perused by any invader.' But Snape was talking about learnt legilimency, not Harry kind. Harry wasn't sure if what he was doing could even be called legilimency, no one had ever taught him that. But this worked for him. More focused, he brushed aside things he didn't want to see and let his magic gather around the uruk's mind.

It felt like he was swimming in oil but he knew what he was looking for. Flashes of mountains and rivers passed his mind. What they were called and where to find them. Geography, roads, oceans, where this creature belonged and the roots of his race, his enemies and animals he had knowledge of. It was a pretty grim world and no matter how Harry searched there was nothing familiar there. No London, no Britain, nothing of the world as he knew it to be.

He looked after conversations with others as his next focus, how to spell and name things. How to talk the – black speech of Mordor, that the uruk used the most. He also learnt some parts of the common tongue as well. Harry went after the language parts and sort of duplicated those into his own mind. It felt odd, as it would with any strange language from anyone's head, not to mention this beast. And it wasn't perfect of course. He grunted and pressed further. He had seen men and wanted to know what the uruk knew about them.

Harry heard the orc under him whine and realized he himself was sweating. He was taking too much. He had stayed there too long. He had to stop. With effort he let go, staggering back and sinking into the ground, breathing heavily and fighting against the nausea. This type of legilimency was never easy and he had never done it to a non-human. The whole mindscape had been utterly different, the way of thinking so far from his own that he had hard time clearing his head.

He found himself wanting to kill the orcs for he now knew what they were but he felt that if he gave into that desire now, it would further tie the new thoughts and knowledge into him. And if he knew one thing, it was that he did not want to be like these things.

Focusing on his own will, he pushed his magic into all three of the orcs and snarled, "Obliviate!" He wanted to totally disperse the last half an hour from their minds so that there would be nothing for anyone to gather or them to remember. After that he flipped his stick, wanting the comfort of something familiar in his hand, and one of the uruks was standing up. Harry had a pretty good idea that the two others who were lying on the ground would draw hasty conclusions of who had knocked them down and he just didn't care if the following fight would end any of their lives. Ennervating them and hastily apparating as far as he could see he left them behind. They were none the wiser of a visiting wizard.

After appearing behind a huge boulder, the orcs far behind, Harry sunk to the ground and breathed deeply.

"I guess Kansas is a bye-bye," he rasped and laughed. This then turned to half a sob. "Where the hell am I?"


	3. Surly Mood Is Surly Company

**Chapter Three - Surly Mood Is Surly Company**

Harry felt a bit lost. He had just sat there in the shadow of this huge rock and stared at his hands. He couldn't help the silent tears that ran down his cheeks. He felt like a small boy, in the middle of nowhere, in an unknown land, without any of his possessions or friends, he didn't have a home here. He was totally and utterly alone.

"Bugger," he whispered and rubbed his tear stained cheeks. His moods were acting up, like a child's would. On top of that his magic was freaking him out a bit. It felt as if everything had abandoned him.

And if all that wasn't enough, he had had a huge dose of unrestrained rage pushed inside his head that he was trying to deal with. That _thing _had been awful. He had bit his own lip at some point, tasted his own blood and his stomach had rolled both with revulsion and greedy need to have more.

Maybe he should throw up a bit more.

He climbed on his rock and watched this world. It seemed as if everything should be different somehow but it wasn't. And he was still himself. Nothing would ever change that. He would never let anything change that. He sighed and felt a bit better.

He was _not _a child! - Despite looking like one. He could take care of himself. He had, after all always done so.

Harry tugged at his hair, black unruly strands flowed through his fingers. He flicked his wrist and conjured up a small hand mirror. It seemed he was still himself.

Yeah, pretty much. Just a lot smaller. He crunched his nose.

The same green eyes and whoa, did he have long lashes as a kid. The same hair, same nose or it would grow into the nose he remembered and he could sort of remember the rest of his scrawny self from the days before school. Harry grinned and even all his teeth were accounted for and they were not pointy, not like the orc's had been.

Yes, it seemed he was in a very strange place without much hope of getting back home. That hadn't prevented him in the past of achieving something he wanted. And the uruk had lived in a small area and did not know much of the world out there. He couldn't lose his hope on the fact that someone with intelligence on par with Crabbe didn't know something.

In the end, it didn't matter where he was, he _would _find a way home. No power could keep him from there. He believed magic could do anything and he knew how to use magic. And despite being a bit tricky here, magic was magic.

Filled with new determination he decided to tackle his next challenge. Exactly how did you do your bathroom business out here?

~o~

After a new-found respect of hikers and their bathroom habits, Harry was again getting less good-humored when he marched on. The long day was finally turning into evening and the sun painted the sky in purple hues. He could look back and not see the tower anymore. Krull hadn't followed him further, probably too vary of him after the whole deal with the orc's. It was a pretty smart beast.

Harry was kicking the stones in his path and would've sullenly kept his hands in his pockets if the trousers had any. He blew his hair away from his eyes. For some reason it had grown since the morning, more than in the last ten years put together. It was always in the way and it probably made him look like a girl! Even Bill didn't have hair this long and Harry was sick of his. It also itched when it grew. So with a flick of his hand he had conjured a knife, gathered his mane and cut it swiftly to neck length.

"Good riddance," he mumbled and let the locks of dark hair be carried away with wind while they slowly vanished. He dropped the knife and it vanished too before it hit the ground. That was also when he decided that he was too tired to continue and here was as good place as any to spend the night.

He gathered few pebbles and twigs and set to make himself comfortable. He bit his lower lip and scrunched up his face, thinking of what he wanted to achieve. Slowly five twigs stood up from the ground, grew up four feet and straightened. Then with a slight pop, they were surrounded by fabric. The tent was small but good enough for him.

He drew a few runes on the air on the corners to bind the form, they sunk in successfully. He also strengthened the tent and made it a bit more spacious and warm inside. He was getting rather giddy from all the magic he used. Itchy for more. So he added a bed made from a pebble, a stove and a small table with a chair. It reminded him a bit of his Gryffindor dorm.

While he was on a roll, he also transfigured boots for himself for tomorrow and enchanted them to be as comfortable as he knew how. Few new clothes were thrown on the bed. The transfigurations would last; anything he conjured up would not, even when bound with runes. But transfigured things – they probably would. It still felt strange to use magic. Unfamiliar somehow. The magic felt sluggish as if it didn't really know what he wanted but when it flowed through him and he gave it a form, it was eager like a puppy.

After that he took care of the security. He kneeled on the grass and concentrated on his hand. A thin golden string appeared and was dancing on his palm. Carefully he lowered it to the ground and watched as it started stretching and hopping onwards. Harry smiled satisfied and whispered a few words to the beginning of the string still in front of him and it vibrated happily.

Knowing it might be futile but better safe than sorry, Harry also took four small pebbles from the ground. With a whisper he made his finger sting a bit and bleed a few drops. He took one stone and drew a small symbol on it and repeated that on the other three. Then he threw them in four different directions. No flash followed but he knew his magic was hidden now from anyone interested. Those stones would also hide any magic coming from his wards. But hiding magic was tricky, especially here where he wasn't quite sure how it all worked yet.

After that he walked behind the tent, stepping over the dancing yarn on the ground half way on its circle around the area. Harry spread his hands against the fabric of the tent and they shortly flared purple. Now no light, smell or smoke coming from the inside would reveal him.

By that time the golden ward was also at the end of its cycle and when it connected in a full circle a white wave formed and spread outwards. For a short while it seemed as if the ground was covered with thousands of fireflies. Then it flickered out too. And now Harry would be notified if anyone happened to pass by the area. The trespassers on the other hand wouldn't have a clue he was there. He had a feeling he might've overdone it a bit but better safe than sorry.

Finally Harry sat in front of the fire almost satisfied. As he sat there, his mind both empty and too full to think much, he couldn't help but notice that it was very quiet. Too quiet. Not quiet like someone would attack him, but rather the you are all alone sort of quiet. The last time he had had Hermione and Ron along in his adventure.

This tent looked empty. Nothing like the chaos it had been when he was visiting the world cup with the Weasleys. He missed his friends. He missed his family. He was home sick and he had a feeling it would be some time coming until he would see them again. He hoped that for once his instinct was wrong.

Harry sighed wearily and rubbed his face while tipping back in his chair. In front of him on the table was a parchment and a quill. He had drawn something like a rough map and written few lines here and there. This place, where ever he was, didn't make any sense. The uruk had spent a lot of its time in caves and it really wasn't very intelligent. A bit above Crabbe probably. At least Harry now knew how to make the most wonderful serving of '_kuz-n'ga han' _which loosely translated meant raw horse stomach filled with sun dried entrails. It made him shiver and want to puke – once again. He didn't remember being this delicate when he was a kid.

But it hadn't all been useless drivel in there, he now knew that he was going in the right direction if he wanted to find humans but by what he could tell, they might not be able to help him. They seemed not to have much, if any, technology. No cars around nor much magic. People rode horses here and wore leather, crude fabrics and fought with spears and swords.

There _was_ magic and the uruk hated it with passion because it was used by elves – creatures the uruks seemed to fear and despise. Apparently elves were very prone to violence, always attacked the uruks at first sight, without provocation. The only good thing about them seemed to be that they preferred to keep to themselves. They looked nothing like house-elves which were the only elves Harry had ever heard of, not including Kreacher of course. That house-elf was still a vicious beast with I-poison-you tendencies and would probably get along fine in this world. But boy could he cook a decent breakfast. No, these new elves were taller and shinier.

The uruk's memories actually felt slimy to Harry, they were always surrounded by shadows, hatred and rage. It was difficult to gather the needed information from that pool of tar. Luckily he now had some sort of a map, an idea of what different races lived around and he could speak the black speech and a bit common language, which reminded him of English. He really hated to admit it to himself but it seemed a lot more had gone wrong than just him being kidnapped and dumped in the middle of nowhere. There went that theory.

Harry had concentrated on one tiny memory especially in what he had found in the uruk's head. It was a rumor about wizards. The uruk had never met one but knew an uruk who knew of another uruk who had been travelling near a tower which belonged to a wizard or wizards. The uruk was not very clear on that. And perhaps these wizards just might be able to help Harry back home.

Harry ate a sandwich while pondering. He preferred the real thing, homemade bread with a thick slices of good ham, but there was nothing wrong with a magicked one. No matter how much Hermione insisted differently. If he was back home, he would be spending the night at Burrow. Molly's cooking was fine indeed and then they all would gather in the living room. Talk about their day and what they had been doing. Bill would probably be visiting with his daughter again. Ron and George would argue about something and Hermione would roll her eyes at her husband while helping with setting the table.

Harry was sure they were worried about him, again. They had always been throughout all these years although no one had said anything to him. Ever since he and Ginny broke it up it seemed as if everyone was trying to organize his life. Maybe it was because of the war and how people were supposed to be happy now that it was all over. And he was happy. In his own way. He was – satisfied. He had his own house and a house elf. Perhaps his house-elf was a tad too blood thirsty but an elf is an elf. He had his surrogate family and all his friends.

True, he might not be able to go shopping on his own or if he did, he had about two minutes to do it before there was a line of kids with their mums asking for autographs and three reporters snapping pictures. Nor could he really do anything in public. Even meals with Ron and Seamus in the Leaky Cauldron were sometimes hard to manage. And he had one whole room in his house dedicated to morning post. He had drawn the line when Hermione suggested of getting an assistant.

Harry was see-sawing his chair while thinking.

"Whoa!" The chair started slipping, its legs scraping on the floor and with a crash Harry went down.

"Ouch," He moaned on the ground. "My bum hurts." He rubbed his behind and stared at his tea spreading over the floor.

"Well, it's better not to wallow on things I can't change." He said to himself, wondering what home he was feeling this homesickness to.

~o~

Next morning promised for a nice and sunny day. Harry woke up slowly, very comfortable in his new bed. His feet especially appreciated the rest.

Everything was good until he realized there was something tickling his nose and covering his eyes – and warming his neck.

"Whut?" Sleepily he brushed his hair away. His fingers got tangled in his long – very long hair. "Oh no," he moaned into the pillow. The girl hair was back again. And that was the mark of a downhill day. His second one in the great unknown.

He spent fifteen minutes looking after his trousers from yesterday until he gave up. The magic must've worn out some time during the night which had been fast, a new record for him. He poked the clothes he had magicked last night suspiciously. It seemed he was fighting the magic here all the way. He would really need to do something about that. But it would be a moot point if he found a way home.

Half of the morning, which was wonderfully bright and airy by the way, he spent trying to remember the runes that would collapse the tent without destroying the things inside. After two hours of agonizing occlumency he realized that he could just will the magic in a reducio spell to warp it all like that. That ended with his tent bursting. So there he was standing, his bed upside down, his table had lost a leg and amidst all that ruckus was his new, absolutely essential while hiking in the middle of summer, a very weighty stove. It was right above a pile of twigs that somewhat resembled his new chair.

He had no idea what the time was when he finally got on the road again. Well, as much as he could be on the road seeing that there really wasn't any. He had a carefully transfigured rucksack filled with minimized furniture on his back. He had had enough of tents.

~o~

It seemed he was more tired from yesterday than he thought. It couldn't have been more than an hour and he was forced to stop. His feet ached again and he was so exhausted that his arms were shaking.

"This is worse than Aunt Tunia's cleaning weekends!" Harry moaned and slumped down.

He groaned and waved his hand for a cold water bottle. A leathery bottle popped in existence which was not what he had been going for but the water was good anyway. He airdrew a few runes on the soft bottle that flashed blue and tied the charm making the bottle of water almost never ending.

Despite his body being too young and his magic going haywire, his occlumency and memories were still good. So he wanted to take benefit on that and had tried to do three things while hiking. First was to try and remember what had happened that evening two nights ago to end with him here. It seemed that no help was coming or found so he just had to figure it out himself. The second was to try and make some sense of the memories he'd acquired from the uruk. And last but not least, what were those damn runes that would make his tent fold nicely.

He had no answer to the first, the second repulsed him and third evaded him still. But at least he knew he was in a place called Rhovanion and the river he was heading towards and hopefully someday reached was Anduin. The uruk called it the great one or what he translated it to be in his head from their language. It was all very confusing. The most important thing was that the uruk counted it would take twenty days to reach that river. Twenty whole days and as proven yesterday, the uruks were in a good shape. Much more so than little old him. He would probably have to double or triple that time if he walked. And he really didn't intend to spend a month or two walking around the countryside just to reach his first goal.

That left a problem of how to move easier. He wanted to apparate, really, but every time he did there was that mist that he could feel better and better now that he had noticed it was there, where ever that was. And he had a suspicious feeling it was also affecting his other spells. He had never thought he was anywhere while apparating but apparently there was a place for that. He also noticed that whenever he apparated, he left ripples in his wake and somehow that didn't feel good. Because when he was there, in the void, for lacking the better word, he felt as if he was surrounded by something powerful, extremely so. And he, another powerful being was able to make his way through it but he changed it. And he doubted that was a smart thing to do. He would either have to figure that out or come up with something else. And something else sounded easier.

Not to mention he really wanted to try his hand on broom building. It was funny how two days of hiking could change one's mind on a lot of things. And if Hermione was here, she would scold him but as she wasn't...

~o~

"Bloody stupid broom!" Harry shouted and flung the 'broom' on the ground. Though he was the only one who would call that branch a broom. It was knobby, crooked and it lay lifeless on the ground when a real broom would have hovered a feet above it.

Harry sat down next to it to sulk and when he realized what he was doing, he groaned.

"I can't believe I'm turning into a child," he muttered and picked up a few pieces of grass to mangle. "I can't believe I'm talking to myself either. Dumbledore would find this all very amusing," he fondly remembered his old headmaster with all his funny, yet life-threatening habits. It seemed his home-sickness was not getting better. Nor was he succeeding in acting less like a child.

Few hours later Harry had decided that broom designers were his new heroes. He couldn't understand how in the bloody hell they managed to make these twigs fly. The flying charm was easy, making sure it didn't give out in three hundred feet was not. Not to mention adding the comfort charm to the seating area and only there. Then to charm the twigs in the other end to propel the whole broom forward. Then something to help maneuver the broom around, that would also have to be partly done on the twigs. Something to make the broom realize which way he wanted it to go and what directions to obey. There were a lot of somethings and most of those things he had not figured out yet. It was great he had the ability to use wandless magic and all hail mage Potter, probably the most powerful magic user in the world who still couldn't build one miserable broom!

Finally, after hours of agonizing work and when the sun was already setting, The Plough mark one was ready. The name was fitting as it seemed to drop down and plough the earth often enough. It also had an accidentally built-in altitude limit charm which made sure ten feet was the absolute highest it would go without the charms giving up. But Harry was very pleased with his baby. The Potter Plough was sure to make new sales records if it were ever to hit the magical market.

~o~

Harry was enjoying the rush of flying, the cool night air on his face, the moonlight making the world silvery blue. He twirled and zigzagged his way forward, the wind swallowing his childish laughter of joy. The sky was dark blue velvet with strange stars shining like droplets of water.

Harry frowned; sobered by the thought of how far from home he was that even the stars were unfamiliar. It didn't completely wipe out his enjoyment of his new-found freedom though. He spread his hands and closed his eyes for a bit. Enjoying the peace as his broom glid onwards soundlessly.

He had to grab the broom though when it turned slightly downwards, as if losing power and drifting. When it was close enough to the ground, he smacked it and kicked it back up.

"Don't start that again," he waggled his finger at the broom. "I've been flying at nine feet steady so no need to get all huffy again."

The broom wriggled as if ashamed.

Harry wasn't sure of the time but knew he made good progress. No settlements in sights yet. He had hoped the Uruks had just missed them but no such luck. The river was still a long way.

Harry yawned and rubbed his eyes. Flying straight was tiring. He absolutely refused to admit that he was a little boy now and that his bedtime had been hours ago.

"'m not tired," he said to himself as if that would make it true and then he forced his eyelids really open.

Next time The Plough decided to dip downwards was enough reason for Harry to decide it was perhaps time to rest a bit. Just a few minutes.

A short nap.

He yawned again and waved his hand. He was tired of tents. This would do well. He dropped the broom and dragged his feet to the bean bag chair he had conjured. Last wave of his hand cast a warming spell and then he was out, curled happily in his warm nest. Oblivious to the night around him.

~o~

Bird song woke him up. Harry scrunched his eyes close against the sunlight and burrowed further down in his - bean bag chair?

"Wha?" He asked no one particular and rubbed the crust from his eyes. It was a bit surreal to wake up in the middle of a meadow, filled with yellow flowers, bees buzzing around and he was lying in a bright blue chair. First thing he looked after was his bag which was lying a few feet from him and it seemed, by the dents in the field of flowers, that his broom was not far behind.

"hmm - It seems this child thing isn't just superficial," he said aloud, trying to wake up. "I look like a child; I seem to be beginning to act like a child - so soon I will be a child?"

He really didn't fancy regressing back to his early years. Not that it was a sure thing; his logical abilities sometimes failed him. But without a brilliant, bushy haired witch at his side offering better explanations, it was best to expect the worst. If he was in a stage where he had to have naps and would literally fall asleep on his broom, it seemed he was heading that way. He really didn't think being his eight or seven year old self in the middle of here would be the best idea. Oddly enough, it seemed all his memories were still there as well as abilities so shouldn't that mean the opposite. That this change was simply superficial. And even if it wasn't, he hadn't been a weakling when he was younger.

"Maybe this is fixable," he pondered and stood up. He really looked at himself, taking off his t-shirt. He transfigured the chair into a tall mirror.

"Whoa, now this is weird!" He exhaled. During these two days he really hadn't looked at himself that closely, not counting the small mirror he had peered in, but now he looked just like he did before he started school. A skinny midget. Obviously the Dursleys tender care still affected him, after all this time.

A mop of sun kissed dark hair was on top of his head, his hair had grown again and his head was huge compared to the rest of him. Just like any six or seven year old would have. He looked like an ordinary child, just very minuscule.

"I really hope I won't get any younger." That was a sobering thought.

Harry concentrated on his image and turned his magic inwards. Uncomfortable sensation rippled through him and in the mirror he saw that the boy was growing. His arms and legs lengthened and his face transformed into what he remembered it being just few days ago. He felt prickly all over when he stretched up.

His legs burned and he felt like he was just about ready to blow up. He was sweating and trying to keep his concentration on what he wanted to look like while staring at his oddly shaped fingers, was not easy. But finally he stood at the right height. He had his muscles back and his hair was darker and much shorter. The world suddenly looked smaller. The flowers that had only a while ago almost tickled his waist, now hugged his legs.

Harry smiled, pleased. He should have done this straight away despite the amount of magic it took or being forced to deal with the most strange sensation of being stretched in odd places..

"Now it's time for breakfast," he thought and cleared an area for a small fire. He pulled a pan out of the thin air and soon had a fire sizzling under it. Bacon and eggs were easy to conjure raw while almost impossible to magic cooked so that they tasted right. Besides, he enjoyed cooking while Kreacher was not bugging him and making all those noises that indicated the elf would have a heart attack any minute.

~o~

Harry thought the meadow he was, was really pretty. Lots of wild flowers. There were also huge trees that offered him shadow to rest in. The day was not too hot but on the other hand bursts of wind didn't make flying easy. Still, it was a nice walking weather.

After his meal Harry was walking towards a nearby hill from where he would hopefully again see where the river was. It was no use to try a point-me spell when the river could curve almost around him. While he was enjoying the scenery and peace, Harry also focused his thoughts inwards.

He felt connection to this place and it seemed to come from the mist. He had realized he was more at peace than he'd been in a long while. It was nothing that was forced on him. He was beginning to think the mist wasn't just mist but maybe something more alive than the magic he had back home.

Harry concentrated on the tree that stood couple hundred feet to his left and prepared to apparate.

Focus.

This might not be something that anyone had thought of before but then again, he had sort of marked a corner in the field of accidental discoveries. There was something there when wizards apparated around.

So, he had his destination. He was determined to be there, he could imagine himself standing next to that tree. He didn't turn or take a step but he was suddenly moving, squeezing. And then he deliberately slowed down in the nothingness and pushed the tight feeling away.

"Oh," Harry stared at wonder. His world was filled with purple color and the haze was hugging him tightly. Yet he had no need to actually breathe. He wasn't sure if he was still in the real world. It was as if there was a glass between this place and that which he had somehow managed to squeeze through without shattering it. The mist - it felt almost like a living person. It was like when he was standing next the veil of death. He could almost hear it speak.

Harry moved his arm and the mist moved away, allowing him movement. It didn't look like it was stopping him, being just smoky air. Yet Harry had the feeling that it was like a snake, one moment unmoving and in the next trying to put you down. This was like swimming in the water, the mist curled around his arm when he moved slowly and pushed further away when he moved faster.

Harry tried to grasp the haze just to see if he could feel it but he was always left empty handed. Maybe it vanished if it was separated. Harry looked around and could see no edge, nothing to show borders. He gulped, a being this vast was hard to comprehend. He tried to breath in but couldn't. He should need air - unless time wasn't moving here but of course it had to be.

Perhaps he should test that later.

'I'm turning into Hermione,' he smirked and flicked his hand to light it up with a lumos. That was when his world went topsy turvy and he found himself summarily pushed and back in the real world, stumbling for balance.

"Wonder if I moved at all," he pondered the mystery and on second thought was back in the mist. He was pretty sure the void place had something to do with magic but it didn't feel like what he was used to. This was not the magic he used. The more he tried, the more he seemed to remain in the 'real' world where he was and simply see the mist around him. It was the slight sparkle of colors drifting between the trees and covering the flowers with a shine. It also gave him a headache.

It was too bad he had never been that good with healing. Sure, he had been at the mercy of Poppy often enough but his main interest had always been to get away from the place, not use it as a learning experience. Basically he knew one healing spell and that was it. Thank Merlin he could use it almost on everything. And hadn't that been rant worthy to Hermione. She had really frustrated herself with him until she just decided that he was an anomaly. An interesting study specimen but not fit for normal theory. At that point Harry had felt like a bug under a microscope and said so. She had just smiled sweetly which always knew trouble. Five minutes later she had outlined a study of unusual magic, a totally new field of magic simply because it was so rare. In other words 'freak study'. She called it mage level irregularity magic analysis. Or M.L.I.M.A. Good thing Harry did not have childhood traumas anymore. She had used it to earn her the charms mastery.

Harry noticed his thoughts drifted back home often that day. It was his third day away. Maybe it was the carefree mood he was in, or that the scenery actually looked as if he could be in Ottery St. Catchpole easily enough and just behind the next tree he would see the roof of Burrow.

His longer legs made the walking much easier and after he left his 'mist' study, he made good progress. It was only when he was thinking about lunch, did he realize that he may have been a bit overzealous with his growth spur because it seemed his trousers were too long and got under his boots. He simply tied his belt a bit higher and reminded himself to correct it for the next day.

After eating he decided to give his broom another go, if only to better see where he was heading. But first he wanted to take a short nap. An adult nap. Not kiddie one. Without a watch he couldn't tell exactly how long he slept and he really didn't want to use a tempus spell because the numbers returned here were funny. Whether it was because he was wary of still carrying some childlike habits which included a routine naps or just because time didn't seem to carry the same meaning here, which one it was, he couldn't say. But he was pleasantly surprised when he finally got to air and saw the river much closer. Days away still but definitely not weeks.

~o~

Harry couldn't really explain it but today he seemed worry free on his travel. He had his main goal, didn't doubt of getting there in the end, he was safe or rather he could keep himself safe and there was no one bugging him constantly. Closest he could figure was to say that a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He tried to think what had been causing him stress before and couldn't really pinpoint it. Maybe his life had become too filled with routines. Maybe his adoptive family was worrying too much. Maybe he had been pushed by all to go certain direction which he hadn't noticed.

Suddenly he didn't feel so content with his life back home anymore.

Sure, he loved his friends and family. He would die to protect them, again. He absolutely loved magic and though Britain's magical community was far from ideal, he liked the everyday things in it. Entering Diagon Alley was always like the first time for him. You couldn't get used to magic.

Harry sighed. He was too old to have this discussion with himself. And he was too young to be discussing things with himself at all.

He obviously now had what he needed. A little holiday with Harry Potter, just Harry, not the boy-who-lived.

"I'm really in no rush," he said aloud. "It's been two days already and by now everyone's worried. They can't really get more worried."

And he could've left a lengthy letter explaining where he was. He really couldn't say as he still didn't remember. He doubted he had done so but it was not impossible. Maybe he had left to hunt down one of Gilderoy Lockhart's stories.

Harry snorted.

Well, at least he was keeping himself good company. No one was complaining.

It didn't seem likely that he had been kidnapped. It was pretty hard to overpower him and why would his kidnappers just leave him. And why naked. Unless it was Seamus.

Then there was the possibility of time travel which he also doubted. This place felt too far from home. All his theories hanged on the fact of how someone could've gotten to him. They would've had to get him unconscious and then oblivate him. Neither was an easy feat even when he was out of it. Especially in his home with his wards and Kreacher.

Harry carried on his post lunch (or dinner) lay in and watched the clouds. They didn't really remind him of anything or then he was lacking the imagination needed but he decided to try it anyway. He was sure this unfamiliar feeling of peace would be shattered sooner than later.

"How odd," He said and looked at a strange butterfly flying almost above his hand. True, he was no expert on the field of lepidopterology but he had never heard of butterflies that looked like they had letters painted on them. This one was all white, except there was a big splash of red on its wings that looked like a crooked A.

"Alfie, you don't know how bored I am," he said and touched the butterfly's wing and whispered, "_Fulgeo"_ The spell made the butterfly shine and sparkle in the sun. It seemed happier. Or then it was silently screaming and flying away from the mad wizard.

Butterflies followed after him that day. Either they all wanted a sparkle of their own or then they were plotting something. Luna was right, it was hard to tell. While he marched towards the huge forest in the distance Harry thought he was thinking restless thoughts. Yet he could still say this was the happiest he had been in months.

When he got home, he would have to keep in mind of how to get back here.


	4. The Blonds

**Chapter Four - The Blonds**

Next morning Harry jumped awake. For a while he wasn't sure what was going on. Then it all came back to him. He was not home. He was spending his fourth day on a camping trip in who knows where and he still had no way to home.

He looked for his clothes and sighed. Gone again it seemed.

"That's depressing," he muttered to himself while he conjured another set of trousers.

"Great. Just great!" He shouted angrily when he realized that the trousers were yet again too big and he had changed back to child again. "Why? Why is it so bloody important that I'm a midget?!"

It seemed the night had brought him some answers. He couldn't figure it out yesterday but now he could sort of feel a pull from the mist to his tiny form. It was like back home whenever he did self-transfiguration. His true form was what he always changed back to when he let go of the magic. That was what made metamorphmagi different and talented. They lacked that chord that bound their form.

Although back home he didn't change back without consciously thinking about it and he had held another form for at least a week without problems. The change back had not happened this soon ever. Hermione explained that it was because he was odd that way or powerful, whatever. But here the 'magic' had apparently decided that his real form was that of a child.

How vexing.

"Oh merlin, I'm never going to hear the end of this," Harry exclaimed when he realized what would happen if anyone back home should ever hear about this adventure. Then he started snickering. Molly would be triple the mother hen she was now. There was no way the twins would ever be able to do anything to him ever again.

"I wonder if I really am a child then," Harry talked to himself while making breakfast. It was damn hard to really make yourself permanently younger. That was one rare thing that witches hadn't yet been able to do. Even Flamel and his stone had limits and the years quickly caught up to him and Nelle if they skipped their afternoon 'tea'. Voldemorts Horcruxes couldn't prevent aging either.

There was an old dark suspicion in Harry's mind that he had tried not to think about in recent years.

Because he had noticed his friends getting older. Ron had filled out, turned from a boy to a man. Hermiones face had changed shape, matured. It was nothing very obvious as she was only a bit over twenty even with her time using the turners. Neville, Seamus and even Ginny seemed to mature in front of his eyes.

But whenever Harry looked into a mirror, he saw himself unchanged. No one had voiced it yet but he feared it was not just his genes. He feared - it was the whole master of death thing.

"Eurgh," Harry moaned when he bit into his sandwich. It was supposed to be ham and cheese but the filling resembled something slimy that Snape used in his potions. "Nothing is going right today!"

That was the problem with conjuring. Concentration was the key and some things didn't work even then. Fizzy drinks, marmalade filled pears, chili roasted turkey, toothpaste, just to mention a few examples. That was simply something you had to learn to live with. Harry had never mentioned his list to Hermione.

"Speaking of toothpaste," Harry poked his teeth with his tongue. Three days without a brush seemed to be too much even with breath freshening charms. He conjured up a toothbrush and a glass of water.

Talking about food, he would just have to start making breakfast the old fashioned way from now on. By cooking and only conjuring the basics. Besides, he really did like cooking. Kreacher just liked to torment him by not allowing him to do so.

~o~

By that afternoon Harry was entering the forest. It had sort of crawled on him. He had figured he still had another day to go but the way had been littered with hills and the trees had claimed the valleys. He had decided to venture in to the woods for a short while and cross the river a few miles northerly where it seemed narrower.

The forest seemed vary of him. This was odd. He had never been a tree hugger or believed plants had feelings, despite Neville's lectures on the subject, but these trees were something else. It wasn't quite whispering he heard but rather he felt them. It was not the same as it was with the mist. This forest was dark and violent and he didn't like the idea that it could somehow read him back. The trees didn't want him there and Harry didn't want to go adventuring in the darkness so everyone was happy. Mostly.

"Bloody bushes," he cursed when he tripped on the roots for the umpteenth time. "This is going to take forever to get through." He was very tempted to turn into adult size again just for the longer legs.

He had hoped to be by the river tomorrow but now it seemed unlikely. He couldn't really apparate because he had not had a good look of an apparition spot and he really couldn't - well, shouldn't do it blind. And his wonderful, worlds best broom, didn't fly high enough to pass the treetops. He guessed he could float himself up but with these malicious trees from hell and the mist magic, he just didn't care to try. Yet.

That didn't leave him helpless of course. He had a huge machete knife that he used to clear his path and even the trees were smart enough to draw back from the bluebell flames. Well, draw back as much you could when you were rooted to the ground. If they didn't like him, fine, he didn't much like them either. When he got home, he would probably need to meet with some sort of mental health professional to talk about his issues with the greenery.

~o~

Harry was surprised to notice it was pretty late already. It was hard to tell when the trees shadowed the sky.

He had noticed a lot of animal trails while walking and wasn't really inspired to spend his night lying on the ground. There had been some pretty big paw prints. He had a fleeting thought of ripping through space and time and either step right into tomorrow morning or spend his night in the ever between.

"Yeah, right," he snorted. He really shouldn't read muggle fiction.

He looked for a sturdy tree and climbed to sit on the first branch. He also tried to ignore the shivers he got when he touched the bark. This tree was old and he could feel it again trying to say something to him. He would've chosen another but it was the only one he had seen in a while that could probably withstand a rhino attack.

While climbing up Harry felt weird. Neither in a good way nor in a bad way. It simply felt new. Unknown.

This old tree was – familiar to him. Warm like the dining table in the Burrow. Joyful like the timber chairs in Gryffindor common room. Dark like the wooden knife handles in Grimmault place. And he had never thought wood could feel at all. It was only now that he noticed those things.

To his surprise he climbed up effortlessly. He had noticed that he felt a lot lighter today while he walked. It couldn't all be chalked up to him getting more fit but he liked the results. His step was lighter, he felt more balanced, he could see and hear better. Though that last part wasn't so good if it meant he was going to be feeling every tree's and rock's moods but at least it was easy climbing huge trees even though he himself was four feet tall.

"I guess this will do." Harry stopped to sit when he was about sixteen feet from the ground and there were two huge branches that crossed and made a good place to sit and even lie down carefully, if you were child sized.

Harry took a twig and lengthened it. Transfiguring wood was like dealing with water. It just flowed.

The wood became longer and wider until it resembled a round comfy bed. Harry decided to play it safe and added a small curve upwards on the edges. So no matter how restless he slept, he wouldn't fall. Then he lowered the bed on top of the branches, molded it some and made sure it stayed there.

Next a plump mattress appeared with brown bedding. Transfigured from the leaves. It was soft and inviting. Without losing a minute, Harry crawled into his nest. Absently he waved his hand behind him and made a blue sparkle spread around the tree. Privacy wards were almost as good as any security ward.

~o~

Birdsong woke Harry up. His bed was high enough that some rays of sunlight fell on him. He stretched languorously and rubbed his eyes. His bed was warm, the morning air crispy and all he wanted to do was curl up in the heat and sleep the morning away.

"_ãure autaoantie ar me roita sinomë,_" someone sung somewhere close enough for Harry to hear and all traces of sleep were gone. Meeting someone here, in the middle of nowhere could be either good or bad. And considering what he knew of this place, it was probably the latter. The language of the incomer was melodic and very beautiful. It sounded a bit like rune singers, a talent Harry knew very little of but he had heard them while he journeyed with Luna in Finland.

After listening for a minute, Harry came to the conclusion that it wasn't singing he heard but rather talking. And as he concentrated more on the quality and tone, the speech wasn't that beautiful either. It actually sounded whiny and the talker was clearly complaining.

He peeked over his bed only to see nothing.

"T_ass anann lenn, muindor. Ven ist I'ur," _someone else answered the first. This speaker seemed in much better spirits and although Harry could hardly be sure, the language also sounded different.

He again peeked over his bed. He really was not that high and without his invisibility wards he was there for the world to see. Luckily his bed blended in a bit. He tried to listen hard for footsteps or anything to hint where these two were and whether there were more of them.

He was a bit excited to finally meet someone. Maybe they could help him. Maybe they would say he was in Hungary or somewhere in Russia. Perhaps in a place under ancient wards that kept him from apparating and perhaps they were growing odd species of animals here. Like those Orcs. Maybe – a lot of things.

Harry bit his lip.

He glanced around again and this time he saw a shimmer of something a few trees away, behind some bushes. No one was near his tree. He quickly let out a short wave of magic, warding the upper part of the tree. He was hopeful it would hide him. Even if the newcomers were wizards.

His heart plummeted a minute later when he got a good look of who was snooping around his hideout. They were elves! Unmistakably. He hissed and tried to remember all he had learned from the Orc's mind.

Vicious. Would attack immediately. White hair, glowing skin, pale eyes. Good eyesight. Warriors. He would have to tread carefully here.

Not that he completely trusted his information. He knew it was heavily colored by the being he took the knowledge from. But as he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but remember seeing elves, covered in black blood with snarls on their faces. Elves that had white blades that were sharp and they killed Orcs for fun.

Harry barely kept his eyes above his bedside and assessed the two elves. There seemed to be no more.

They were both male and blond.

'Eurgh, more Malfoys,' Harry couldn't help but think. The first one even had the same self-satisfied expression. Maybe his impression of the elves had been spot on. No race here seemed to be very intelligent or benign.

The elves were armed with swords and the second one carried a huge bow. The arrows in the quiver at his back seemed very pointy. They wore tunics that seemed of good quality. Harry still couldn't hear their steps which was odd. Perhaps the elves did know more magic than he thought.

To his displeasure he couldn't help but notice that the two were handsome. All pretty and shiny with glittery blue eyes and... He could almost believe they had peaceful intentions. Almost.

The taller of the two, the whiner, got closer to his tree and Harry could hear them talk but couldn't understand a thing. He was also a bit pressed for time because even though he might look like a child, that did not mean he would accept soiling himself. A bathroom break would be good right now.

Carefully he pushed his magic outwards and conveyed wanting to hide. He concentrated on a bubble where only he could be. He also sent a tendril of magic to the elf that was the furthest and weaved a compulsion net over him. He knew he was taking a small risk. Though this magic was something only highly trained wizards would notice but he had no idea how these elves reacted to magic.

"_Le hiol ne?_" Someone said from right under his bed.

Harry froze. He had _just_ put up his repelling and secrecy ward so how in the Merlin's name did that snooty elf get through it?! He could hear every word the elf said clearly which meant that the elf was standing at the root of the tree. Right under him.

Obviously the elves still couldn't see him but they were looking around. Searching for something and Harry had a bad feeling that something was him.

Ron always said best defense was offense and as the elves hadn't reacted to him using magic, well, reacted differently than before, he dared to do this. Once more he sent his magic out to ensnare both of them. The one further away would have desire to go look from somewhere else.

Harry squeezed his legs together, trying not to think anything watery. He was getting a bit desperate here. He again peeked over his bedside and it had actually worked. The other was walking back into the trees.

After that Harry turned his attention to the elf below him. The Malfoy wannabe was just standing there leisurely. Probably checking if he had any dirt under his fingernails. Harry would try and siphon the surface thoughts of the stranger. He had to know what they were saying. If that didn't work out, he would just jump down and stun the nosy bastards. Hoping that their shiny skin wouldn't act as a mirror and reflect his spells. They certainly seemed resistant enough to some types of magic.

Luckily the elf was still just standing there and looking after his companion. Harry easily covered his mind and fished for thoughts.

The elf was as vain as he sounded. First memory Harry caught was of the elf looking into a mirror and brushing his hair. The second was of the elf in front of the same mirror and looking at which outfit he should wear. Then he got a snippet where the elf was sneering at some other creature which turned out to be a wounded man on a healers bed. Then the elf was again in front of that mirror...

Harry sighed. This was just his luck.

On the other hand, it didn't seem like the elf had any defenses around his mind so he delved deeper.

"_lhû muindor!_" His target under the tree suddenly shouted.

Harry stumbled back. He had gotten some of what he was looking for but not nearly what he wanted. The language begun to make sense though.

"_return... wood is speaking... come... hear it, brother?"_

_'_Wood is speaking?' Harry thought that odd. Then again, he had felt something when he climbed his tree and he had sort of heard something.

Now the other elf had returned and the two were talking while watching around.

"_they sing... of a lost one... close... treasure?" _The elf's voice was wary.

Harry frowned. He still didn't understand all the words.

'Hmm, it seems they can understand the trees. Wood speaks of a someone who is nearby. The only one here besides the twits was him so...'

'Bloody traitorous pile of firewood!' Harry fumed and wanted to smack the tree he was on. It should keep its thoughts to itself and stop gossiping.

He was very tempted to simply either stun both elves and have his wicked way with them or plunge in their minds and find what he wanted to know. Preferably before this chatty tree got its message through.

Now that he knew what he was looking for, he could feel a sort of connection coming from the trees or maybe it was the same mist that seemed to be everywhere. It felt similar in color than what surrounded the elves and that apparently meant they could communicate on some level. Though it didn't really explain why he felt anything from the plant.

Harry knew he would need to get away from here but not too far. He only needed a safer ground. The elves were the only other things on two legs besides him that he had seen in days. He was not done with them yet. Harry had a feeling that while he was in contact with the trees, they would try to give him away and getting away from trees in a forest was of course the easiest thing in the world.

Maybe the elves were a bit like Neville. Having an affinity with the earth and thus plants. It was supposed to be a Longbottom blood trait. But Neville had never said anything about talking with trees.

Harry peeked at the two blonds, standing straight under him now. He would have to be both fast and sneaky if he wanted to avoid an obliviation. Assuming you could obliviate an elf. He certainly didn't know how to obliviate a tree but he would be investigating that in the near future. Now if only he didn't leave his bladder behind.

He weaved a net of confundus charm on the air and let it float down towards the unsuspecting elves underneath. He waited for the right moment and then apparated fifty feet right to a more rocky ground where a patch of bedrock rose above the ground. There was few bushes and bigger rocks which he could hide behind.

His bed was still on the tree but under the charms. Harry hoped that now that he wasn't there, the trees couldn't help the elves anymore.

He felt pressure from around him. While he apparated the mist begun to swirl.

'_lost'_

Even he could hear it in the air now. It was as if a chorus of high pitched fairies was saying it together.

The wood was disappointed of having lost track of him. It sounded peculiar to him. To actually hear trees humming.

The elves were also looking around puzzled. Well, the other was. The one that looked shorter and also seemed a bit too observant. Harry's first plan had sort of worked so he decided to do it again. His thread of magic soon reached the pretty boy and then the elf went prancing in another direction. The self-absorbed one shouted something after the other and then just shrugged when he got no answer.

Harry's target was a bit far so he used a light compulsion spell to lure the pompous elf closer. Then, on a whim, he decided to test the theory whether that shiny skin could repel a stunner.

The elf actually woke from his earlier to spell when he noticed a red stunner heading at him. But he only managed to twitch his hand towards his sword before he went down.

'It seems the magic against them works better from rocky ground. Never would've thought that,' Harry pondered while he ran behind some bushes close by. He really, really needed to go.

Much relieved and knowing time was of the essence, soon the other one would return, Harry sprang on the elf and looked into deep blue eyes.

He already knew what sort of person this elf was and tried to avoid most recent memories. Unfortunately he was taken far deeper into the mind than he had ever experienced.

Harry felt overwhelmed. He was trying to look how to speak their language but memories of the elf's younger years were flying through his own mind. What the elf had learned and studied. His family. Their journey towards the undying lands.

It soon became obvious that the elf had _a lot_ of memories, dozen times more, three dozen times more or thirty times more than normal human. Harry felt himself becoming lost there. He was seeing too much and couldn't stop. He had to know what these elves were for they certainly weren't normal.

He was whisked away from another set of memories and he blanched when the memories told him that elves were immortal. He understood why the mind was so vast and why the elves could act like they did. Bored of everything and feeling superior to others. He stumbled across very little compassion in this elf's head.

Harry could later admit to himself that he had panicked. He desperately tried to pull back but his connection to himself was almost nonexistent. He fleetingly worried how much in disarray he left the elf's mind but it seemed to correct and organize itself back. Which only made sense because no one who had lived that long could afford to keep all the memories either active or disorganized. Some sort of occlumency seemed to be instinctual to them.

Harry felt himself pushing the memories away, he stumbled through the languages the elf knew but he didn't have time or talent to take them all. Snippets from there and there. He wasn't even sure if he was moving towards himself.

'calm, concentrate,' he thought to himself and halted. It was like he was deep in an ocean, everywhere was dark, everything seemed the same. Memory blocks assaulted him but luckily the elf wasn't awake and so couldn't focus. Harry tried to reach himself and that was when he finally felt it. A golden leash that was connected to him.

When he felt he reached the surface of the mind, he was immensely relieved. And in pain. His own mind was now a mess. It seemed his legilimency skills, that worked a lot by instinct, had gathered information bits without much connections. For instance he now knew that this elf liked to talk Quenya, a language that elves used to use but not here, not in this land. Only after they had departed and travelled to peace did they start to use it. In elven lands. But this one here did it to spite others, to show he was better. He wanted to show off. His lord had said he was not ready to leave but the elf itself felt resentment. After all the elf, Erewan, thought he should've made a better lord of his family. Not that he wanted to be one, he just would've been better. Maybe Harry should've picked the other one who at least seemed to have some sense of humour. This one felt like Percy Weasley combined with Narcissa Malfoy.

The elf, Erewan, was shallow, self-satisfied, arrogant and blockheaded twit, Harry decided as he gasped for air and returned to himself.

~o~

Harry watched from behind the rocks as the other elf, Celedryl, returned.

He looked for his brother and then rushed to his side when he noticed he was lying on the ground.

"_Erawan! Brother, wake up!" _Celedryl kneed besides his brother, his hands looking for more injuries than the obvious bump in the head. Harry had added it in order to make it look like as if the other elf had just stumbled.

Erewan groaned.

"_Brother! You had me worried," _Celedryl sounded relieved.

"_Leave off Celedryl. I am in pain. What happened?"_

"_I do not know. Do you not remember?"_

"_No," _Erewan snapped and sat up. It seemed he was back to his charming self. _"Can you see a bruise? I hope not."_

"_Only you brother would worry such a thing," _Celedryl smiled. "_It seems you are not so sure of foot anymore. Perhaps you should stay off the hills. Ada will find this story very amusing. His pride and joy, stumbling like some common man."_

Erewan snarled and pushed himself up.

Harry had even added marks in the moss where the elf supposedly slipped. He didn't dare to try an obliviate on such a mind, he might have either overpowered or erased far too much or then there might be no effect at all. But he had scrambled the newest memories to pieces. Lost around the vast mind, hiding behind centuries of old and almost forgotten memories. That, to an elf, could be compared to a memory spell. Or at least Harry hoped so. There was very little chance of the memory ever coming together and surfacing.

His own comprehension of the elven language was improving by the moment. He was trying to concentrate on the two but the newly acquired information was pushing around inside his own mind. It was difficult to assimilate it. It didn't feel similar to the orc's but Harry had as bad view of it. The rapid pace he went through everything inside his mind also meant that he made instant decision to lose some of them. He didn't need to know what the elf had eaten a fortnight ago. And there was so much more to go through so that he could banish the head ache.

Harry remembered a snippet of the elves father. Erewan remembered proudly times when he saw his father in battle. There was blood everywhere and later that night the elves celebrated their fierce and talented warriors, although in Harry's opinion there was little to celebrate. War was stupid and often pointless. He should know. No one ever won.

While harry's opinion on the elven race had found new lows, the two brothers had started arguing.

"_Rac pé," _Erewan spat.

Harry really was getting tired of these two. The best insult the other could come up with was 'gossiper'. And what was the deal using that older language. It was like Hermione had been in their first year. He loved that girl, but he suspected that at times she just wanted smugly to point out that everyone else were just more stupid than she.

Celedryl chastised his brother but the tips of his ears were looking a little red. Obviously there was some truth in the accusations.

"_Perhaps I at times wish to delegate information forth but that is only to the benefit of all. Imagine, if not I, then that scandal in the halls of our king's castle would have been left unresolved."_

"_My silver tongued brother, it was you who started that scandal," _Erewan helpfully pointed out.

Harry kept an eye on the two for an hour. The brothers had a task of checking the southern border of their land. They didn't seem to regard the task as an honor or important duty.

"_We might come upon some easterlings here. They are not as peace-loving as men at the …."_

"_Celedryl, I would not bother to do such separation amongst men. Nor with a man, an orch or a dwarf. They are all the same. Foul and greedy,"_ the other snobbishly pointed out.

"_You have not met a man in a century, Erewan. You should not have reason to complain. Think of the elves in Rivendell. My, they live so close to men village that they see them practically daily,"_ the other responded almost teasingly but clearly also thinking the men were something to scrape off the soles of his boots.

Erewan sniffed.

By this time Harry was certain of his conclusions. Elves were clearly idiots and bigots. Pretty to look at but like Veela, they held none of that beauty beneath the surface. In their case, literally.

'It was nice to know', Harry thought as he followed them going away, 'that even when things changed, some things stayed the same. Bloody blonde pricks.'

Harry had had enough. There was nothing more he could learn from these two. Their race obviously held some power here, which was no wonder considering they seemed to live for thousands of years. It would be best for him to avoid them all. It should be rather easy considering they regarded themselves so high above others that they lived in their cities and rarely left them. That made them a dying race.

He couldn't just let them leave though. It wasn't fair to leave two idiots such as these without attention. They deserved some Karma. So, before Harry sneaked away, he sent a tiny bit of magic at both of them.

Satisfied, he turned to continue on his journey. He could still hear them panicking when he was hundreds of yards away. He didn't think it was that unbearable for the two to walk around few weeks... or maybe months around with a couple of green spots in their hair.

~o~

Now Harry had a lot more to think about while he tried to clear the forest. Luckily he had not yet met any trolls or giant spiders that seemed to run rampant around this Silvan Woodland realm. Or at least that was what Erewan's memories had insisted it be instead of the more commonly used Mirkwood. Harry liked the latter better.

He had just managed to make some sense of the orc's thoughts and now he had an immense amount of memories more. He could still feel the sensation as if he was losing himself. He was sure any human would've which begged to question why hadn't he? This wasn't something he thought his magic could've helped with. If his magic was the answer then how come all that he had taken upon himself was still there? He had faced similar troubles before, not in legilimency but always his magic had simply eviscerated that which was too much for him.

"Maybe I am changing... It must be this place," Harry pondered.

He had mainly tried to reaffirm from the elf's memories if his geography of this place was right and acquire some details of other beings. Erewan had lived most of his life in Mirkwood, as could be expected from an elf and he had fought in wars north of there. Their much hated enemies were the Dwarfs. Erewan seemed to think the Dwarfs were responsible for the increased orc activity and that they liked to assassinate any elf they came across. Actually the Dwarfs seemed pretty much responsible for eggs burning in Erewans breakfast yesterday. Perhaps the biggest issue in the elf's mind was that the Dwarfs absolutely refused to admit that elves were superior to them. In Harry's book, that already made the Dwarfs good enough to meet. Unfortunately he didn't have the time and meeting them would force him go through the elven city which was a big no-no.

The only thing about the elves that Harry enjoyed was their language. Even Quenya felt right. When he tried talking the language, it sounded as if he was singing.


	5. Lost And Found

**Chapter Five - Lost and Found**

"Hayaa!" Harry screamed his battle cry as he chased the huge spider with a burning twig. He had an enormous smile on his face. Action was exactly the thing he had been missing. Maybe travelling alone days on end didn't really suit him. It had made him a bit unhinged and it had sort of crept upon him. Maybe this was the way Dumbledore and Riddle went bonkers. Didn't Riddle travel around for a decade or something?

Harry had met with three nice spiders who had tried to eat him. He figured reverse was only fair play. He was tired of berries and sandwiches and meals that while tasty, were not tasty in the right way. He loved his magic but he really couldn't remember the actual taste of delicious, mouthwatering food anymore. And if you couldn't imagine it, magic wouldn't deliver.

Harry knew the forest would only last till the end of this day or so. He had not delved deep into it and had left the elves way behind him. Even now it was evident that the place was getting a lot lighter and the trees kinder. Hearing them 'speak' was still baffling but they told good stories. Stories of an old, old world with kings and knights. Acts of valor and darkness so awful that princess stealing dragons were nothing in comparison or girl eating basilisks for that matter.

Harry didn't hear it all yet. It was images and whispers straight to his mind. Despite the darkness in the forest and few traitorous trees, Harry felt a sense of peace and safety here which he couldn't explain. He was usually the one who provided those feelings. But it was a nice change. He certainly was not bored. New things were popping up all the time.

Harry prepared for his sixth night here. It was almost a week, this was the fifth day, that he had been gone and his home sickness was something terrible. He also felt guilt for worrying them, all the while he was here enjoying himself. Sort of enjoying. He wouldn't mind some comforts, like a travelling tent with good rune work. He still couldn't remember the right runes to make the tent act properly which really bugged him.

His tree-nest was tried true so he did it again but this time he spend a bit more time on the wards. He didn't want to eat spider for breakfast. It did NOT taste like chicken as Sirius had told him. The full moon bathed the leaves of the trees in silvery light and Harry found himself missing even the werewolves. He assumed they didn't exist here. A creature as dark as a a werewolf would surely have popped up somewhere in that orc's head.

~o~

In the end he had to admit that meeting the Malfoy relatives had been beneficial. He knew which direction the great river Anduin was and that it was only a day, maybe two, away in his speed. He didn't need to slow down since he knew there were no villages along the way.

Unfortunately that also meant he had to crush his earlier plans. There were no human villages along the river this far north. There was an elven city but he would avoid that no matter the costs. The elves couldn't and wouldn't offer him help. Nor did they have such magic that was needed. Only thing Harry might gain was history and based on what he knew of the snooty elves, it would probably be as useful as talking to a centaur. And the elves left other races in middle earth to suffer, there was no way they would help him. Prison him more likely.

He would have to head for the sea beyond the mountains. Either to south or further west. South would take him closer to Mordor. He had had enough of dark lords, especially those ones that were supposed to be dead when in reality it seemed they weren't, so west sounded more suitable. It would add weeks to his journey if he used magic to help him along the way, days if he apparated most of the way but if he was really lucky and travelled like he now had done, he might meet a wizard on the way.

He would also have to really start figuring this whole getting home thing out by himself as his travelling now seemed a bit pointless. There was no one else but the wizards that might be able to help him in anyway and it was likely his best chances of finding one were in the west. Harry doubted the wizards here were the same as him. Erewan certainly didn't seem to think so but even the pretentious elf wouldn't argue that the wizards were powerful.

He looked up at the sky. "I wonder if it'll finally start raining." The sky had been getting greyer during the day. Heavy clouds littered the horizon. It was also a bit chilly so Harry conjured himself a travelling cloak with a generous hood to keep the possible water away and then continued onwards.

~o~

Harry was happily minding his own business later that day. He was almost clear of the forest when he heard the ruckus.

_'A hunting party,'_ the woods whispered.

"Hunters, eh. You wouldn't have noticed of which race?" Harry asked but the forest just repeated the first sentence over and over again.

"Best clear myself out of the way then."

He began running past trees to the left.

For a while the noise of trampling prey quieted.

_Swoosh, fthunk!_

An arrow sunk itself on the tree next to Harry. It was made of ash colored wood. Elven made.

"Damn, it's the ferrets," he muttered to himself and tried to speed up. Unfortunately his short legs were already going as fast as they could. It just wasn't fast enough. He had felt the shift in his magic that had probably guided the arrow pass him.

Harry got scratched on the face when he forcibly pushed through thorn bushes and suddenly the earth vanished from underneath him. He rolled down the small hill and sputtered dead leaves and soil out of his mouth before casting a quick healing spell on his leg that had sprained in the fall.

"Stop!" Someone shouted from behind but Harry didn't listen to the order. He had a bad feeling that just maybe, maybe Erewan had managed to remember something. He guessed elves would not be happy about someone treating one of their own like that. Still, he could've sworn he had smashed the memory beyond repair.

"Damn elves," he wheezed and jumped over a small stream. He would have to get far enough for them to not see him apparate. He really didn't think showing the immortal busybodies that here was a child that could do magic was a good idea or beneficial to his health. He needed to get just a little further.

_Swoosh_..

Another arrow passed him and Harry's magic didn't have to do a damn thing. Well, at least it was good the pricks weren't ready to kill him… yet. There was no elf with aim as bad as that. It was meant as a warning. Then again if he had been a normal human child he doubted he would've realized that. The next arrow went through his robe and nailed him into a nearby wood.

A little wave of his fingers cut him loose and he continued running.

Why were the elves bothering with him? If they had seen him, he looked like man child so shouldn't they be happy there would soon be one less. Certainly your average child this young wouldn't manage it more than a few days here. That is if they didn't think him a small orc but in that case the elves were idiots. Orcs didn't travel solo. But he already knew what the elves were.

"Bugger." He realized that yes, elves might be that big of an idiots.

"Ah!" He shouted when someone tackled him hard to the ground. He kicked backwards, adding a bit magic to it and the elf grunted and loosened his grip enough for Harry to dash away. Or rather limp away.

He must've looked awful by now. He was wheezing from this long run, his trousers were ripped in many places. His face was covered in scratches and now his side was aching from that fat elf jumping on him and there probably was a whole lot more aches and scratches from the tumble.

Harry had bigger problems though. He realized the elves had managed to direct him towards a rocky wall. He tried to swerve left but could hear his chasers getting closer there. Then he stumbled on a small clearing which ended on a tall enough boulders that he couldn't climb. He was trapped.

At the same time three elves burst out of the woods on his right. He could hear there were more approaching.

'Great, just bloody great,' Harry cursed in his mind. What was he supposed to do now?

"_Look! It is a man child," _the first elf stated and slowed to a halt. Enviously Harry noted the elf wasn't even out of breath.

Harry pulled the cloak tighter around him and covered as much as he could. He eyed the elves bows, one still had an arrow stringed. Not to mention they had pretty long looking swords also.

"_It must be lost. Why else would it be this far into the wild," _the second stated.

The third was hopping and rubbing it's shin. "_I say this little warrior will be fine once we return him home. I have not lost a fight in decades and then this little balrog comes along." _The elf stated laughingly.

Harry thought a lot of credibility of the great warrior was taken away by the numerous braids he had in his hair. They must take an hour each morning to do. Not to mention he had some sort of flowers as decorations there as well.

The first elf walked closer and kneeled ten feet from Harry in order to be on the same level.

Harry back-pedaled against the rock and tried to figure out where he could go from here. He really didn't need elven babysitters. He pulled his hood lower. They had no business of sticking their noses into his problems. Although it might be difficult to convince them of that as he was now.

"Do not be afraid, little one. I and my fellow elves wanted to make sure you were alright. We mean you no harm," the kneeling elf said in what Harry realized to be the common tongue, Westron, and then the elf smiled reassuringly. "We only want to help you return home. It is dangerous for a little boy to be this far into the woods."

The elf was clearly checking out Harry's condition. It was a good thing because it gave Harry time to gather himself. He only needed to get around the boulder and out of sight. Then he could apparate and leave the nosy elves in peace.

Damn his luck.

"I don't need your help," Harry flat out refused the elf.

Unfortunately his accent must've sound odd because the elf seemed to only become more interested.

"From where do you hail youngling? Can you tell me the name of your village, maybe I have heard of it."

At that moment three more elves rushed into the clearing. They took a look around, then relaxed as they saw things were under control and walked towards their companions.

Harry thought their hairs were ridiculously shiny. He also felt a bit insulted. If he chose so he could give them a load of trouble.

"_A child of men? Here?" _One of the newcomers said.

"_We wondered over the same. We will have to halt our trip and return. The child must be delivered to safety," _curtlyanswered the one who was obsessed over hair art and that Harry had kicked. He easily recognized the elf because besides the hair, he limped, had a smudge of dirt on his cheek.

"_Do not frighten the young one with your tone. Haldir seems to have trouble already."_

"_How a man child could have ended in here?" _One elf still wondered. _"Are they not more careful with their young?"_ the elf sounded indignant and a bit angry.

"_We can ask him after Haldir has calmed him down. Look, he almost has him and..."_

Harry tuned the elves out and quickly turned his attention back to the one who had tried to talk to him. He cursed the elves for being able to move so quietly. The elf, Haldir, was only a hand reach away from him and he had just stood there like an idiot.

Harry dashed to the right, hoping his sudden move would give him an edge. But then the elf was on him and he was lifted in the air. The arms felt strong and the chest against his back firm.

"You do not need to fight me, little one," the huge elf, Haldir, said. "We only want to help you back to your parents. We will clean your wounds and give you something to eat. You must be famished," the elf spoke to him in a soothing manner.

'Yeah right,' Harry snorted and rammed his head back and heard a satisfied "umpff."

Unfortunately this Haldir seemed to be an experienced fighter because his arms didn't loosen an inch.

Harry began to squirm and though the tight grip felt uncomfortable and he would probably have bruises to show it, he didn't give up. He wasn't going to be left on the mercy of these elves. On the corner of his eyes he saw that two more were coming closer. Probably to help subdue him.

In an act of desperation he bit down on the hand holding him and he couldn't afford to give a warning. He bit down as hard as he could and could taste the tangy flavor of blood filling his mouth.

"_Ach! This little hellion bit me," _Haldir half-cursed.

"_Hah, are you saying a child has defeated you oh great marchwarden of Lorien? You have probably scared the child witless."_

"_Do not hurt him more Haldir. I can see blood on his clothes and it is not yours," _a sterner voice commented on the side.

It seemed to Harry that this Haldir was hesitating as well as the two other elves that had come to help. Maybe they really didn't want to harm him but they did want to capture him which was a big no-no.

So, Harry took action. He let himself go all loose and thus harder to hold. He knew this from all his fights with Dudley. Kids could be boneless if they wanted to but he had to be fast. Haldir was big enough that he could easily lift Harry around into his arms and carry him around like a little child. Thus Harry swung his leg forward and kicked back as hard as he could.

Haldir tried to hold back his curse this time but was forced to bend a bit.

Harry's feet finally touched the ground and he wiggled and squirmed like someone had dropped a bucket of ice cubes under his shirt. He could feel himself losing his assailant's arms. His own robe was all twisted, his shirt halfway up.

The elves were mumbling something but he paid it no mind. He would get free.

Just as he was sure he would get away, Haldir made last effort to catch him and caught him by his neck.

Harry could feel his throat protest and couldn't help but moan in pain. He was already breathless from all the wrestling and running and he was sore all over. And just like that, he wanted to cry.

'Oh, bloody hell. Not now,' he thought. It seemed like all his fighter reflexes were gone. He had no idea how to use this new smaller body and how fragile it really was. His child emotions were kicking in and in this sort of situation they called him to start balling his eyes out.

The elf had fortunately adjusted his grip after hearing him in pain and was now only keeping a grip on his robes while trying to gather him in his arms again. Harry saw that their tumble had taken them on the other side of the clearing. The other three elves were not close and the two helpers also kept their distance. Obviously not seeing him as a threat or then they trusted Haldir to deal with him. It really didn't occur to him that they didn't want to overwhelm him.

Haldir was the only thing between Harry and the bushes which he saw he could dive under and then be out of sight to apparate. Only someone very small would fit under the tangly roots and thick branches and there was no way through or over for the elves. They would have to run around the large bush.

Harry loosened his robe and tried to control his hiccupping. As if this wasn't awful without him crying.

"Shhh, we do not want to hurt you child. I am truly sorry if I hurt you. Please trust us. We will take you home," Haldir soothingly spoke him.

'As if,' Harry thought sarcastically.

Just as Haldir was trying to lift him up again, Harry again went boneless and fell out of his hooded robe and crouched on the ground. He was ready to dash to safety when the elf in front of him stumbled a few steps back.

Harry had time to wonder if he was somehow disgusting looking but he didn't think he was that beaten up.

"_By Valar!," _Haldir whispered and stood there as if turned to stone. His wide eyes zoomed straight into Harry and devoured him desperately. _"An el- elfling!"_

Harry also stumbled at that exclamation and glanced upwards. The elf, Haldir, still had a stunned look on his face that was now sort to a half twisted to agony. The elf just stood there. Harry's cloak was floating to the ground, abandoned. The other elves were now staring at Haldir and two of them had already turned to run towards them. Fast.

"_Haldir, MOVE!" _One of the rushing elves shouted.

Harry noticed the two that were the furthest had drawn their weapons and were eyeing the surrounding forest as if just now getting alert. It puzzled him, why would they act as if they were on serious security duty. He didn't give them much more thought. Elves were already proven to be peculiar.

Harry gave the shocked elf in front of him no more attention and kicked him where it would hurt the most. Haldir let out a small moan but even as he doubled over he still tried to reach for him.

Harry on the other hand lost no more time and rushed to freedom by diving between the elf's legs. He could hear the other elves shout something and could practically feel them rushing past Haldir to catch him. But it was too late as Harry stumbled under the big bush and was on the other side on his feet while the elves behind him seemed to be freaking out. Unable to pass the thorny bushes fast enough.

The next second Harry got behind the boulder and was lost to the elves. Although still not in his sights, he could hear them getting closer and shouting after him. He knew they would be on him in mere moments if he allowed it. Harry looked as far as he could see through the trees, then he dived into the mist and apparated there. Getting away from few over eager elves was still no reason to do blind apparation. Especially when there was no one to put him together should he splinch himself.

~o ~

A/N: Do you think I'm being too harsh towards the elves? And yes, this is sort of going to be an elfling!Harry


	6. Rogue Elfling

**Chapter Six - ****Rogue Elfling?**

Trying to lose a bunch of elves was almost too much effort. But whenever Harry thought what they would do if they caught him, he somehow found more energy to keep on apparating forward. He imagined them dragging him to the nearest town, complaining the whole time it took to get there how their precious hunting trip was cut short. They wouldn't listen to a word Harry would say and would definitely ignore any and all ideas or requests he would have. On top of that he had no intention of revealing his magic skills to these long lived gossipers.

Harry even thought of apparating back in his tracks, maybe where he had spent last night but he really didn't want to backtrack his steps. So, instead he just looked as far as he could see, chose a point again and jumped there.

The elves were wicked fast. He had to give them that. Harry had to apparate five more times in order to get far enough to take a short breathing pause.

"What's gotten into their knickers?" He wondered. "And what did they mean an elfling? That Haldir needs a pair of glasses." Harry puzzled over his escape for a while but then more pressing issues overtook him. Like where to go from here.

His magic was already healing his scrapes and bruises his acquired in his dash for freedom earlier. He didn't feel the need to concentrate on mending his clothes. He would do that later tonight. He felt hungry and tired seeing it had been his resting hour, NOT nap time, but resting hour when the elves begun chasing him. His afternoon snack time was also already way passed. He was also exhausted because of the running and crying and all other embarrassing stuff he had done today.

He pulled out his water bottle that he had attached to his waist. Cold water had never tasted better. Unfortunately he could already hear the elves and if he could hear those silent buggers then they were way too close. It was a good thing he could apparate silently, if it was actually apparition he did. Hermione had had some issues with that.

Luckily Harry could already see where the tree line was a little ahead of him. After that there was supposed to be a walk to the river over grassland planes. Normally it would take two to three days in fast paced jog. He was planning to be there by nightfall.

~o~

Harry hardly had time to enjoy himself.

"Next time I romp through an elf's head I am so gonna take some memories of good apparition spots," he mumbled.

He had tried to look for a good place near the Anduin to end up but Erewan, the snooty Malfoy elf he had legilimenced before, had spent his recent years, or rather recent centuries in Mirkwood and had absolutely no idea where anything was outside of it. Thus Harry was forced to use sight along apparition. Which was safe, but stomach turning. Also it seemed that Erewan was not a cartagropher or then he was suffering from who knows what; the end result was that the 'map' of middle earth that Harry had seen in his mind was not that accurate.

"Three days march my arse. More like two weeks," Harry grumbled while he ate his snack. He had dived into a spot of waist high hay to eat. It kept him safe from prying eyes but he still didn't have time to loose or enjoy himself much. This open land was great to get away from his hunters but the elves had wicked sharp eyesight and as soon as they realized which way he had gone and cleared the woods, they would probably be able to spot him if he wasn't careful. Why couldn't they just leave him be?

Harry stopped munching his sandwich when cold shivers ran down his back. Why were they so insistently chasing him? He knew the elves would hardly care of a little child. Not this much in any case. Unless they thought he was important. Harry quickly conjured up a mirror.

"Meh, well – I don't see it," He talked to himself while squinting in the mirror. "My eyes are the same, my nose is the same – or is it a bit wider? Maybe I'm growing older again?" He grinned at himself and ran his tongue along his teeth.

"My teeth aren't any sharper and my bongee aant lon enof to reef mai nous," He sputtered while trying to make his tongue reach his nose.

His hair was too long again. Black and shiny. Probably shinier than before. "At least I don't look like hedgehog anymore."

"Is my skin sparkling?" Harry poked his cheek but couldn't really tell. He expected to be more tanned.

"Eargh, whas' wrong with them!" He cried aloud when he reached his ears. This needed a closer look. The ears were still his and they weren't exactly pointy like the elves seemed to have but they did seem – stretched.

"Can they even do that? Why are they so weird?" Then Harry couldn't help but try and make his ears flap. Dudley had known how to make his ears move but Harry never could figure it out.

Apparently slightly longer ears didn't make it any easier.

"Can't be helped. I'll just put a glamour on them if they grow anymore," Harry decided and shrugged. "Doesn't make me an elf. I'll worry if my nose starts to go longer as well. I'll be like Dumbo."

Harry finished his bread and packed up his bag. His next jump would be his thirty-second today. When he looked back, he could see the ripples he was doing in the mist when he apparated and that worried him. Or rather he got a bad feeling. He had always believed more in divination than his friends seemed to. Not prophecies, especially given by she-who-shall-remain-unnamed and who drank lots you-know-what. But there wasn't a doubt in his mind that magic could know future. Thus he had begun to rely on those feelings; it was just magic thinking of him. And this creepy feeling right now made him wary of apparating here but what else could he do. Bloody elves. They were definitely somehow related to Dobby.

"Too late to worry about someone noticing the disturbance anymore, probably," Harry muttered. "But maybe I should fly a bit," he wondered and turned to his bag. He pulled out the Potter Plough.

"Hmm," Harry scratched his head as he looked at his brand new broom. "I didn't remember it looked quite - like this," He scratched his head and wondered at the rather malformed branch with thick twigs pointing every which way at the end.

Harry still hopped on it with his bag on his back and for once the altitude limiter wasn't a problem. Any higher and everyone in ten mile radius would be able to spot him.

"Hop, hop and awayyy!" Harry got a nice speed after his running start. He swished on his way in the hay, keeping eyes out for any big rocks.

~o~

Harry was extremely relieved when he finally arrived at the river bend. Though what a river it was. Insanely wide and the water looked dangerous. It was so deep it looked black and he could practically feel the speed the water was flowing. It was not inviting him to have a swim, despite how much he wanted to get a nice soak and clean himself from head to toe.

Above the water sound, he did hear an odd whacking sound now and then. Curious, he followed it around a bend and found the reason. Immediately he got an evil idea in his head. He couldn't help but cackle a bit. Not Voldemort style, more like George Weasley style.

He had accidentally stumbled upon what must be the elven hunting party's boats. Very rickety looking things.

"I'm probably doing them a favor, keeping them from drowning," Harry pointed out to himself while he was opening the knots that tied the small boats to a nearby rock. "These clearly are not safe."

He watched as the dinghies were taken away by the river. And as if to prove his point, one of them hit a rock that was jutting out of the riverbed. It didn't make it far until the water simply suck it down.

"Let them try to run me down now," Harry nodded satisfied.

He felt a bit bad about their boats but he couldn't afford to have them trail him. He had no doubt that an immortal race as them would've mastered many things. Fighting and tracking being only a few. He also didn't think he would win in an honest fight against that many of them. Nor did he ever want to try mess with their heads again. If only to save his own.

His luck turned soon enough when he tried apparating over the river. He wasn't sure if the water itself affected him somehow or maybe he was simply too tired. He was too exhausted to care to solve the why. But he had ended up half a feet too short from the shore and was plunged into the chilly water.

After he had cursed enough and dragged his sorry arse out of the water, Harry felt miserable. Now that he was safe from his pursuers, he couldn't help but notice how hungry and tired he was. And that he looked like a drowned rat. He had also lost another pair of trousers somewhere in the deep water.

"I just want to sleep the rest of this day away," he muttered as he checked his bag was still fine.

Harry saw the mountains were very close now and he would be happy to be rid of these trees, finally. They seemed to have honed on him ever since the elves started chasing him. How nice it would be to just be in peace.

"Nosy twigs." Harry glared the nearest bush.

He wanted to call it a night right there and now but he knew he would have to continue on just a little still. It would be better to rest at the root of the mountain. Just thinking about moving more made him want to give up. But a thought of nice warm place to sleep in and warm meal made him determined to last there. He was twenty, not eight.

At that moment Harry's stomach growled pretty loudly. "Thinking about food –" Harry looked back at the river. It seemed rational that there would be fish there but river this big could have any sort of fish in it. With his luck he would probably end up having a lap full of huge piranhas or something.

"The water looks clear enough, so maybe it has… trouts?"

Harry decided to risk it and said loudly, "Accio trout!"

A huge fish popped up from upstream and almost smacked his face. The fish didn't seem to like the idea of being anyone's dinner and squirmed to get free. Harry hugged it to his chest and stumbled upon a nearby tree where he smacked it hard. He was not going to use the killing curse here when he shouldn't be using any magic at all. He sighed and looked his shirt. It was wet, six sizes too big and clinging to him. On top of that, it was now covered in scales. He looked at the dead fish on the ground. "That's like one third of me!"

After this Harry realized he was too tired to walk and his broom would not help him much in this terrain with big rocks and thick trees. He decided to apparate a few times more.

~o~

Harry was absolutely exhausted when he finally popped in a place he deemed suitable. He was really happy with his progress today and while his magic was still thrumming strongly, it seemed he couldn't keep up with it. He knew better than boost himself up with magic. The hangover of that was awful. He knew. He already had a killer headache.

"I don't think I've ever apparated as many times as I did today," he slurred while he stretched his back. He was sore in very odd places.

After transfiguring yet another pair of trousers and trying to figure out where he was going wrong and why they disappeared so easily, he decided to light a fire and relax a little. He also tried his skill in tent building again, seeing as spending a night on a tree didn't sound that thrilling. Not that there even were trees. His new tent was good and spacious, warm and he finally had stove again. He had his fish prepared and cooking on it in no time. For the first time in days he was eating actual food. Harry put up his tent quickly and used runes to hide his place carefully. He knew another elvish village was too close to comfort. They seemed very zealous of their territory.

"Mmm, heavenly," he muttered as he bit into the fish with lovely butter sauce. That was really the trouble he had with conjuring what he ate. The taste faded. It was as if he couldn't remember it anymore and eventually he was just eating cardboard.

He had also collected some waterleaves from the river bend. When mixed together with magic, he was able to make parchment. True, it was messy and he had to use transfiguration magic and bind the thing with small runes on the side because he really wanted this to stay as parchment. But it helped loads that he had something on the base of the transfiguration. It didn't fight the change so much.

Then he conjured up a sharp quill and begun to draw. He had realized it was difficult to keep track on where he was and where he had been, so a map was necessary. He drew a rough sketch of where he thought he was. The elf's memories helped him a bit despite being very outdated but then again, some things didn't change. The mountains were ahead of him, Anduin was behind. Woods of Lothlórien were south and Mirkwood was in north-east. He would draw the map out as he went.

Harry frowned as he rolled up the parchment. He could feel his magic all over it. Usually he didn't have to do thing this thoroughly but he still wasn't sure what was wrong with his magic. It seemed his power was waning though he didn't feel it himself. Inside him his magic was still going as strong as ever but his creations and spells didn't last as long or were less effective. His magic was also affecting the void that was everywhere, as an empty parallel world or something. His magic had been confused few times. When he had wanted to do something, did the spell like he normally did and then something completely different happened compared to what he had been trying to do.

It was all so confusing.

Harry sat down outside his tent and closed his eyes. He hadn't noticed it before but even the air here was different. Fresher.

"This place really is beautiful," he whispered when he once again caught himself staring up at the night sky and the unknown bright stars. The warm smell of smoke was in the air the left side of his face, which was closest to the fire, was getting warm. He didn't mind though. He felt untroubled. It didn't really matter what he thought of the magic. Magic was magic and it would sort itself out. Or then he would figure something. He was also sure his home was somewhere out there waiting for him and he was determined enough to reach it.

It had been a long while since Harry had last done his occlumency exercises. It was easy to dive inside his head. Harry figured it was mostly due to his change to his younger self. There was a reason kids couldn't occlude. His exhaustion didn't help.

He had done his exercise rigorously when he had begun healing his mind after Snape. But once his defenses were as good as he thought they could get and were tested by several legilimens, he only did the upkeep. But if he was ever to fathom a way back home, he really needed to find out how he was taken here. And he might be a happy-go-lucky kind of guy but he still wanted to know the why and the who as well.

It wouldn't hurt to dig up pretty much everything he had ever learnt as well. Harry really hoped there was something there that could help him here but research was more Hermione's forte.

"I feel like a useless idiot," Harry muttered as he calmed his breathing. There seemed also be a nice bundle of elven memories still floating about. What a mess.

Harry had pretty much gotten rid of the orc's memories. It was funny the way what he 'read' from someone's head lingered behind in his. Not a single text on legilimency ever described something like that. Erewan was a different thing. He had been very lost in there.

Harry sniggered and broke his concentration. "That elf's head really was filled with loads of air."

~o~

Harry woke up just before sunrise. His bed had been soft and the tent warm. He used the last warmth of the stove to make himself porridge to serve as breakfast. His conjured grapefruit was also suitable sour this morning. This was the day he would crossover the mountains. He had officially been gone a week from home.

Harry didn't have much experience with mountain climbing but he figured that would be alright. He was going to cheat anyways.

He transfigured some spare socks he had in his bag into heavier winter clothes. Thick, water resistant trousers and an overcoat. A sort of robe over all that would keep the wind away and also protect him from pretty much anything these mountains had to offer. His goal was to be on the other side today. He put everything away in his bag which he then stretched out to a belt. He felt protected and because of a few nifty charms, he could move as if the heavy clothes weren't there at all. Still, he was pretty sure he looked like stuffed a turkey. But by the end of today he would be gone from the elven lands.

"I'm ready," he nodded to himself while he looked at the mountains ahead.

~o~

"Maybe I was not as ready as I thought," Harry cursed when he once again slipped off a ledge and was forced to quickly apparate to the next which he hardly saw and thus he lost his footing again, fell on his bum and slid to lie against the stony wall. At least this time he didn't slide over the side and plummet downwards. His eyes were hurting because he had been forced to keep his vision charm on too long and the all-white color around him didn't help any nor did the harsh wind.

The first mountain had been easy but he really had no scope of actually how large the mountains were. Even that first climb took forever. His farsight helped a lot because he could actually see where he was going but there were still surprises. Sharp rocks were hidden behind bigger rocks. Dried up treeroots made him stumble, the ground was covered in ice and slippery.

Now that he was finally on the other side of the mountain, there seemed to be top after top after top and these mountains were not small. The valleys between the mountains had become cliffs so deep and black that he couldn't see the bottom. Snow filled the highest mountains and it was sometimes rolling down the side of them like rivers. Wind blew and gathered speed while twirling around. Not to mention that despite being as light as he was, the snow didn't keep him up and so he had, more than once, sunk to the snow chin high. No charm was able to keep him dry. The freezing, cold water dripped everywhere that was supposed to stay dry and warm. Harry was shivering. He had no idea what was considered hypothermia but surely he had that by now. This cold certainly took all his concentration away. He worried he was going in circles because all the mountains looked the same.

The cliffs he could step into were narrow and slick with ice. There was no place to stop and rest for a while. Often times the cliffs were crumbling under his feet without any notice. One time he was even forced to blindly apparate on air when he fell. Luckily he knew some nifty levitation spells. Unfortunately he couldn't just 'fly' over everything. The winds caught him and tossed him about worse than any broom had ever done. The cold seemed to break the rest of his warming charms and he was sure his nose was permanently frozen. He had no concept of what time it was. It felt like he had been going on forever. He could feel his strength being sapped.

Maybe he could've thought up a different strategy but considering he wasn't exactly himself now, he simply fought to stay up minute after minute. He felt he was fighting for survival which meant he was getting desperate, it meant to go all out. His temper was getting a bit short.

"FUCK!" He shouted angrily when once more the wind caught him like a kite. "I've had ENOUGH!" Harry felt his magic surge forward, fast and powerful as a lightning.

The world halted.

There was no whistle of the wind anymore. No echo of great avalanches. No breaking of the frost.

Harry was floating in the air, violet light pulsing around him. Had he thought it better, he would've realized his precarious situation. He had managed to put himself in the middle of both 'worlds'. Halfway in the void and half in the mountains. He turned his head and was swallowed by the mist.

Harry didn't care any more about anything so he simply gathered his magic and pushed more. He had magic to spare and he was going to show this place that he was not to be ordered about or defeated. The mist was getting tumultuous but couldn't fight against him. Maybe it wasn't even trying to resist him but Harry had had enough.

Slowly a vacuum appeared. Had Harry looked around, he would've seen the air distort. But he only looked ahead and was off with a bang. His speed was faster than anything this world had seen before. He was apparating and then not. His anger was making him fly in the apparition. Like a purple comet. He passed the mountains and ravines, things that got in his way were pushed off to the side or then they simply shattered. There was a moment when the mist spilled to the real world and followed after Harry, sparkling golden.

Harry saw the world blur in front of him. He was forced to push more and more of his magic into the spell. He even passed through a huge boulder on a mountainside that crumpled behind him. Harry felt himself being stretched. He was also expending a lot of magical power and despite his almost never ending source of it, he could feel himself being sapped. Without a wand to use as a focus, he didn't have much time. Not to mention that he was physically beginning to feel strange. His eyesight was bit blurry. If he would faint, there was nothing but blackness below him.

Suddenly sunlight blinded him and as the snow lessened, Harry's rage bled away. His eyes felt sore and he was feeling like a lorry had ran over him but he couldn't help but smile. Ahead of him was still a huge plane of white snow but on the other side of it he could see green. This was the last mile.

~o~

A/n. I'm not that happy with this chapter. I had to edit it a lot and I probably will redo some of it later. Now I just wanted to get the story rolling again. Pointers are welcome.


	7. Child's Play

**Chapter Seven – Child's Play**

"Finally," Harry said when he pushed through the last pile of snow. "I'm not doing that again anytime soon and I'm all wet." He flipped his overly long shirt sleeve around and wrung it around to dry it. Snow had gotten everywhere and then melted because of the warming charms.

He decided to take a break. It seemed he had not taken the whole day to cross the mountains or then he had taken two. Hopefully he had not taken three. At least he was tired enough for that to be true and the sun was again setting. It seemed he did nothing else but travel and jump around here.

"What's this?" He wondered when he removed his overcoat to see it covered in a thin film of golden dust that was disappearing before his very eyes. He drew his finger along the dust and it tickled. "Magic," he whispered.

Harry made a small fire, not bothering with the hiding charms now that the elves were left behind. He doubted the orc's would come around this way either. There were no bigger caves in this area and he was still relatively high on the mountain. Orcs and trolls preferred lower ground.

He could've just as easily spelled his clothes dry but it really was only his overcoat that was in need of serious drying anymore so he hung it up next to the fire. Harry took out the last of his last night's fish from his bag and some bread. He was pretty satisfied how fast he was travelling again. At this rate it would only take him a few days to reach the coast. He didn't want to think about the possibility that no one there would know England or could help him home. Someone in this place had to and he would find him or her. There had to be a wizard in one of the western towns.

'How odd,' Harry thought and whipped his head around. He was sure he had seen something from the corner of his eye.

'If I saw, then it probably means there is,' he figured and stayed alert while sitting next to the fire. He let his magic wander about. Watchful and ready.

'There!'

A shadow had moved on his right. Behind the first trees and just beyond the light of his campfire.

"Alright, come out. I already saw you," Harry shouted and stood up. He pushed his magic forward in a volley. It looked like a burst of wind and suddenly he was much more conscious of his surroundings.

There was someone there. Someone dark. The person was tall and powerful. For a moment, just the time it took you to blink, Harry thought that this someone potentially could help him. But then it rushed over him that this person was murky and he felt this person was actually subservient to someone else. Just like the dark mark.

"_An elfling?" _A voice suddenly rasped from the shadows.

Harry had to think for a second before he realized it was the language he had learnt from the orc. Black speech.

"What's it to you?" Harry asked and tensed. He knew some of the creatures that dwelled in the land of Mordor. Few of them were of the sort that wouldn't try to eat him on the spot and none wished him well. "Come out from the shadows!"

"_An elfling... lost.." _It rasped.

Harry sighed. This was going to kill him if everyone was this thick and what was it with the elfling comment. He would know if he was an elf. Maybe it was his hair...

"No, thank you for the concern but I know exactly where I am," Harry challenged.

"_Without protection," _the thing whispered and it had moved three trees to the left.

"You keep thinking that but come here where I can show you how wrong you are!" Harry said, standing proudly about four feet tall. The creep was giving him chills the more it talked.

The shadow moved and first Harry though it somehow bent the shadows but then he noticed a ragged cloak appearing in the clearing. This thing was huge!

"_Master will be pleased..." _The thing rasped.

Harry really – really didn't want to use legilimency on this thing. It reminded him of a dementor too much and even he had not been idiotic enough to try it on one of them.

"_Was it you, little elfling," _it spat out 'elfling' as if a curse word. "_That called the world?"_

"Whu? What are you on about?" Harry asked while warily following the things progression. "What are you anyhow?"

There was no seeing under the things hood. It was pitch black. Harry noticed he couldn't see the things arms although they should be there. He only saw steel gloves.

'It's invisible? That can make things interesting.'

It made a sniffing sound and turned its head as if it was smelling something…

"_Yess, it was you," _it hissed.

Harry had a flashback of Riddle talking in parseltongue.

"_So much power... in one so young. Yet you do not know who I am," _It stated and walked closer.

Harry figured this thing would have an ego two miles wide. He stood his ground but raised his magic. It would make this 'dementor' go boom just as soon as he wished so.

The thing halted, as if feeling what he had done. _"You do not fear me," _it stated, puzzled.

Harry snorted. "Sorry to disappoint you but you aren't exactly the scariest thing I've come across. I have no cause to fear you."

Somehow the thing managed to look like it was smiling without ever showing its face. _"Youth... I am a Nazgûl and you should feel honored my master wants you."_

"What would your master want with little old me?" Harry asked, really wanting to know.

"_You rippled the world. Know it not you might but there is power within you. It belongs to master," _The Nazgûl rasped.

'Rippled the world?' Harry tried to think what it meant. Unfortunately only one thing came to mind this fast. 'The mist. I must have pushed it too much. Was that why I ran into the elves – could they follow the mist as well?'

It seems everyone and their cousins knew that someone had arrived here and also where he was whenever he apparated or in any way disturbed the void. It went without saying that of course those who could feel the disturbance were also old enough to have learnt the skill or powerful enough. Neither choice was good. Especially when the elves were definitely old enough and some of them might also be powerful enough. Not a good combination.

'Rats ass!' Harry cursed silently.

The Nazgûl drew a long blade from its cloak. _"You will come with me, elfling."_

"Right," Harry said and figured in with a knut, in with a galleon. Everyone already knew he was here so why hold back. So he copied the idea from a cartoon he had seen and made his fist burst into flames. "I need to know more about your master. Are you willing to answer me or will you resist?"

The Nazgûl suddenly seemed hesitant, eyeing the flaming fist. Apparently it was enough dementor like that it just might be hurt by it.

Harry smiled.

He concentrated on the fire and it flashed to pure white. Patronus flame. This might hurt a bit more.

"_Istari?" _The Nazgûl blurted, sounding very baffled.

To Harry it reminded an owl, turning its head from right to left and almost around. It worried him a bit when he noticed or rather felt, as he still couldn't see a face, almost a gleeful excitement from it.

"_Master will be pleased..." _The Nazgûl rasped and started to walk towards Harry rapidly while lifting its blade.

_Swoosh,_ the blade swished down and Harry nimbly sidestepped.

The Nazgûl was growling.

"What did you expect? That I'd just stand there like an idiot?" Harry couldn't help but ask. What was wrong with these people.

Harry apparated behind it and struck its back with his flaming fist. The patronus flame going straight through the things chest and coming out on the other side.

The Nazgûl screeched but it sounded more surprised than hurt.

"Oh-kay. Maybe not exactly like a dementor," Harry said and ran backwards to avoid another swing of the blade.

The Nazgûl screamed. It seemed frustrated. _"Surrender, elfing. You have no hope." _It rasped and charged forward.

Harry swayed a bit on his feet. He was not a superman. His small body had missed a lot of rest today and fighting insane invisible bad things wasn't a good thing right now. He had to put it down fast. He decided to put the fear of fire in this creature. He concentrated, he remembered the last time he had used fiendfyre. It had been with the elder wand. He remembered acutely how he had felt the flame grow inside of him. How it had burst out the wand tip and the power the elder wand put to it above his own. He certainly hadn't tried this spell wandless before.

Harry closed his eyes and enchanted in his mind. He focused on that single memory and then let his magic rush free.

He suddenly felt as if he couldn't breathe. His magic was reaching and gathering like an ocean wave. Like it was drawing on something. Then the sensation was over and fiery fire burst from his hand and spread around the clearing. The flames seemed to lick the dark night sky.

Harry was momentarily stunned and stared at his hand when he realised that he was actually holding the elder wand. "How?"

Luckily for him, his moment of thought didn't cost him an arm or a leg as the Nazgûl was equally surprised though it was mostly concentrating on the fire.

Harry knew how his fiendfyre looked. It was a horde of lizard like dragons that had white coal eyes. They stamped forward, silent, as a herd and their tails left the fires burning hotter and hotter. He could feel the scorching heat burning his face even though he was the caster and nowhere near the flames.

"Sorry to tell you, but it's doubtful you are ever going to see your master again," Harry said.

The Nazgûl probably had a whiplash as it turned towards him and then it actually growled.

Harry felt almost insulted because it seemed the thing had already forgotten him.

"_Foolish youngling, I am always together with my master!" _It shouted apparently now seeing him as a real threat.

Harry made his dragons dance closer to his adversary and then one of the dragons pounced.

The Nazgûl was fast but not fast enough. The dragon's tail hit it on the side and it let out an unholy screech.

Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to kill the Nazgûl or not. The thing seemed the type to be guilty of killing a lot of people and it had tried to kill him. Yet, Harry hesitated. It seemed wrong. It seemed like he was killing a muggle. Maybe this was the moment that Voldemort had crossed?

As the Nazgûl was writhing on the ground, Harry decided to try and read its mind. Stupid, yeah, but he was a Gryffindor. Quickly he slipped into the mist and was surprised. There he saw the thing better. It was like a ghost. It stood white against the colorful mist but it was distorted, as if a great wind was blowing. It looked like a inferi. A rotten corpse of a man. Reading the dead was just not done. It only led to insanity.

Harry didn't have time to take back his spell. Two things happened at the same time. He breached the Nazgûls outer mind and instantly wanted to throw up. The orc's darkness had been nothing compared to this. Voldemort had been nothing compared to this and Harry fought to leave. He could feel something fighting him back. Trying to trap him. It was not the Nazgûl but he could see a deep shadow there. _The master._

As Harry stumbled forward the injured Nazgûl saw its chance against this unknown opponent. It lurched up and stabbed Harry with it's dark blade managing to wound him on his bicep.

Harry was jerked back to himself when something burned his right arm. His eyes were probably as wide as saucers when he looked at the sword that had impaled his arm. Then the Nazgûl jerked the blade sideways as it danced away from one of Harry's dragons. Harry felt the fiendfyre fight for dominance. It was just waiting to grab control and devour everything.

His mind was whirling. The elder wand was connecting with him again and seemed pissed off that he had tried to abandon it. His head was filled with dead things crawling around from his bout of legilimency. He tried to keep track of his fiendfyre and the Nazgûl. Luckily the flames still eagerly hunted the thing. And now it seemed he had a piece of a sword slicing through him. Or dust of that sword as the thing seemed to be evaporating.

He shrugged his arm and directed a healing spell on it with his wand. Then he went after the Nazgûl.

His fiendfyre had herded the wraith on a small space already. The dragons snipped at its heals, wanting to eat it whole.

"So, ready to talk yet?" Harry asked and casually leaned on a burnt tree husk.

"_You were mortally wounded by a Morgul blade!" _The Nazgûl screamed and twirled to avoid yet another bite.

"That what it was? Sorry to tell you but my blood is usually too strong for any poison. So I'm still here, happy and healthy." Harry shrugged and figured that it probably also helped he had cast a healing spell with the elder wand.

"_I am not your prisoner!" _The Nazgûl spat.

"Could've fooled me," Harry stated and made the dragons form a cage around the wraith. "Either you tell me, Khazul, or I rip it all from your mind." He threatened and hoped the Nazgûl wouldn't call him on his bluff. It really wasn't easy to be threatening when you were four feet tall and cute as a button.

The Nazgûl stood in its cage, unmoving and unrelenting. Glaring at him for using its real name. Pretty much the only thing Harry had managed to unearth from its mind.

Harry sighed. Figures. He had two choices, either to kill this thing or let it go. If he let it go, it would come after him again. There was no doubt of that. He could probably still kick its arse again and maybe any help it would bring along but the biggest damage this thing could do above that, was to announce where, what and who Harry was.

He contemplated delving into the creatures mind again to perhaps seal or obliviate this information away. But this thing was old, perhaps older than Erewan and Harry didn't have skill to deal with that. Not to mention this thing was dark, as in the most evil dark there was. It was also already sort of dead. Harry wasn't sure what was keeping it alive though. Perhaps it was the master.

He rubbed his face. This went against every ounce of Gryffindor he had in took a deep breath and then fed the dragons more power. So much that the flames turned blue and then white.

He closed his eyes and the dragons attacked the Nazgûl.

Khazuls screams were cut short as nothing could withstand the flames of fiendfyre.

When Harry opened his eyes a second later his firedragons were awaiting more orders. Harry turned to look the world through the mist and he thought he maybe could see an outline of the Nazgûl still. It was slowly floating southwards as if a very pale and hazy sort of ghost. Harry shot an obliviate after the impression. Maybe that would get rid of the memory. It seemed that habitants of this place were rather difficult to deal with. At least he now knew the next time he decided to abandon his honor, he should do so with more thoroughness. Then he looked down at his wand again. _His._

~o~

Harry thought it better to leave the battle ground behind him as soon as possible. He forced himself to stay awake and begun flying his broom. His thoughts were tumultuous. He put the elder wand carefully in his bag. Still feeling a bit awed that it had just appeared or had he pulled it here?

Would there be other enemies that were behind him now? He had been a bit too arrogant in his assumption that he knew what this land had to offer. Who else could be interested in him? What had the dark lord seen? Was the nazgûl really still alive?

He struggled to fly for an hour or so while he headed northwards. His first plan had been to head directly towards the sea but now a detour seemed safer. Eventually he became so tired that he halted awake when the broom was only a feet from the ground, drifting. That was when he decided that he was far enough.

Harry took the old ward stones from his bag, wary of using any magic until he could deem it safe. Once the stones were hiding his magic, he threw up at least six different wards that all required only a small amount of magic. Then he put up his tent and crawled in, dead on his feet. If there was one good thing about being that tired, it was that his mind was too exhausted to worry over anything else but sleep.

~o~

Next morning Harry was sitting outside of his tent, staring at the elder wand and pondering about his next move. He still couldn't do any magic while he was in the mist, that had been his first cautious effort but he sort of could keep looking through the whole haze. And now it seemed that he couldn't do much magic at all, unless he solved the little problem of leaving big neon signs like 'this way to the new guy!'.

Harry was still amazed of how he could feel the wand in his hand. He had almost forgotten the feeling of it belonging to him. True, he didn't need a wand but nevertheless this was his. It felt different to him than his very first wand. His phoenix core wand always had the memories of its brother with it. Maybe that was why Harry had learnt wandless magic in the first place.

He lifted his sleeve up and examined the place where the blade had pierced his skin. There was nothing there. The Nazgûl had seemed truly surprised that he was not more badly injured.

"It pays to have basiliks blood and phoenix tears in me then," Harry figured. His healer back home had been unsure of the effects. Only thing the healer could confirm was that neither the tears nor the poison had vanished. They were both still there. Usually phoenix tears healed and then disappeared but when confronted by basilisk venom... It didn't seem like the venom was still causing havoc and the tears healing it all up. Rather that they had infused themselves with Harry's blood. Which meant blood magic didn't really work on him anymore. That had sucked when he tried to do some inheritance rituals to create his own family tree only to get naga ancestors.

Harry tried to make sparks come out of the wand and wasn't really surprised when he got some sort of smelly foam.

"I'm sorry all right!" He flushed red. "It was the right thing to do to leave you with Dumbledore. You were his and it was time to give the world some peace."

The wand remained unassumingly in his hand.

"Come on, you can't say you didn't like it with him when he was alive. He probably used you to conjure up some super lemon drops and extra garish robes or something. Now wasn't that fun instead of all the fighting? And you did get to do some battles as well. Dumbledore was brilliant."

The wand vibrated.

Harry sighed. "What if I promise not to leave you again?"

Harry had a staring match with his wand and it took a minute for him to realize what he was doing and he groaned. "This is way too early for shit like this. You're mine now. Deal with it!" He snapped.

The wand happily obliged and sprouted a huge shower of pink sparkles. It seemed it just needed to be commanded and owned.

"You haven't met a wizard named Lockheart, have you?" Harry wondered suspiciously.

After the debacle with his wand which finally seemed happy with its part in life, Harry turned to look at the mist. The source of all his problems here. He made several bigger ward stones intended to keep his magic hidden. Unfortunately he couldn't say for sure their magic would reach the haze as well in the void between.

It seemed the mist reacted to some spells while others did nothing to it. Harry was determined to solve this puzzle now. He wanted to try and summon the rest of his hallows to him. If they wouldn't come then nothing from his home would. If they did, well then just maybe he could go there as well.

"Lumos," he said once more and watched as the spell flowed in the mist. Not disturbing it at all.

"Stupefy," he shot the stunner at a rock. It ripped through the air and pushed the mist about. It didn't ripple it but it was close.

Harry sighed. He drew some more marks on the sand in front of him. He had already drawn there what he knew of the spells. He wanted to see why they would be so different. He had tried the spells wandlessly as well as with a wand. That had made no difference. There was something in that mist...

He took a deep breath and let the mist surround him. The transition was easy by now. He opened his eyes.

The haze was still the same. It surrounded everything, yet he couldn't crab it or inhale it. It was as if there was an invisible film on top of him that kept him separate.

Harry decided to try something. He concentrated on staying in the void and then simply brought his magic out. Everything turned yellow.

"Bloody hell," he whispered. He was like a flaming torch here. His own magic was so – young. It was zooming around, playfully forming small tornados that teased the haze and then it curled around Harry once more. He was like a small sun.

Curious, he watched as his yellow magic twirled a little with the purple haze. He closed his eyes and spread his own magic.

Suddenly he was yanked backwards or at least he felt like he was falling.

This other magic, because that what the mist definitely was, was old and powerful. It had seen wars, it carried in it many powerful races. It was all and everything.

Harry didn't notice that he was crying.

He could sense the battles that had been fought. He could almost see the magical safe havens there were. He realized there were so many kinds of magic. Dark, powerful, light, furious, sparkling, low key, natural, the diversity just continued on and on.

Then he was back to himself. Still sitting in the same spot and the mist surrounding him. Harry gasped for air and then realized that he was breathing in the void. That didn't make sense.

"Err… what just happened?" He breathed.

He looked around himself, worried what he might find. But his magic was still there. Sparkling like the brightest day. The mist still swirled around him but now he felt connected to that as well. Could it all be so simple?

"You are old," Harry stated, realization finally coming to him. It wasn't about the spells themselves but it had been him. He had not understood. At times, his own magic was too different. If he wanted to use magic, he should feel it first. He had done so when he began learning magic at eleven and deepened that connection to almost unheard of levels when he delved into wandless arts.

"Stupefy," Harry whispered and watched in excitement as the spell weaved itself through the mist and like a small firework, splashed against the same rock as earlier. Harry held his breath and waited for something to happen. Nothing did.

"Thank you," Harry reverently whispered to the old magic and he felt as if he had been given a priceless gift. He felt accepted and hoped his feeling carried over as he returned to the normal world. He wanted to hoop for joy.

~o~

"Damn," Harry cursed after his first try of apparition. It seemed that was still a big no no. Apparating pushed the mist around, making it easy to follow him if there was someone close by that could read the signs.

But thus far all his spells worked fine. It was risky but he really thought he now had to try some serious summoning.

In his days gone from home, nine so far, he had gradually began to morph some sort of theory of where he was. It had first jumped in his head when he had seen the orc's mind. The elf had simply strengthened it, yet he hadn't wanted to believe. This thing with this world's magic just hammered the last nail in his coffin. He was really, like really, far away from home.

He didn't know if this was what one might call alternative reality but it certainly was a totally different world. Time had not changed - maybe, but place certainly had. The how's and why's he still couldn't answer. But in order to get back home he would need to do some serious work. That his wand had followed him here was a really good sign. Then again it was one of the hallows of death and apparently he was still the 'master of death'. Not that he had ever seen himself like that.

He had argued over it once with Hermione before she had gone on tangents. He hadn't even met Death, if it was about him dying then he was merely an acquaintance of death because it was only his own death that he could avoid. He wasn't in position to tell the Death to do anything like a master should. Most importantly he didn't want to be the master of death.

Harry had let his newfound knowledge of this world's magic help him feel out his surroundings. Now when he let his magic take a look around it spread for miles. It was a tickly feeling. And he was relieved that he could say no one was around. He got a bit winded though when his own magic returned. It was such a rush.

Harry had drawn two rune circles on the sand. They were not very durable but would do their thing. He didn't think he would disturb the mist with his summoning but the outer rune layer protected him from searching eyes. The inner layer was there to give him focus and maybe up the power a little. He hoped it was enough.

"Here it goes," he said to himself and grabbed his wand with two hands. "ACCIO!" he shouted and focused all his will on his father's cloak.

He felt the elder wand vibrate eagerly. It was times like these when it was simple to believe that some deity had had a hand in creating the thing. It twisted his magic, it called out to its other part, the second hallow. All the hallows belonged to Harry. They were a part of him.

Harry could feel his magic do something odd but didn't dare to take his focus of the cloak. He had never felt like this when doing magic. True, the summoning spell sometimes took a while to bring him what he wanted but now he felt as if he was sitting in a middle of a tornado. Like the spell was going through all the things in a world to find what he wanted. Harry had let his magic flow free, offering it all to use and kept his mind firmly on the prize.

"Accio cloak, accio cloak," had become his quiet mantra.

Then he felt a tug in his magic. That was really something as his magical reservoirs were supposedly endless. His wand was vibrating.

_Pop_

Everything calmed down and Harry dared to take a peek. He had shut his eyes at some point. He could still feel his magic restlessly moving around but the world looked like nothing special had happened. Not a stray of grass was out of place.

"Nothing?" He asked and looked around expectantly. There should be something. His magic wouldn't just give up after all that. Right?

"Oh, come on!" He whined.

Harry lifted his wand to his eye level, as if it would tell him what went wrong. But it remained as it was. A wooden wand.

He was just standing up when he felt something light covering him. He looked at his arms, lifted them and laughed. It was his father's cloak which had apparently appeared above him and now had drifted down.

"This is interesting," he said and looked at the elder wand with a little bit of awe.

"Accio stone," he shouted immediately and again felt the huge rush of his magic. It was a very heady feeling. He could see now how the wand had mesmerized so many people. He hoped he himself was used to this now so that the wand would not get the upper hand. He hadn't really read about its history that much.

Harry concentrated again on the stone, he imagined himself holding it. He could feel the texture of it and every crack he had seen in it when the horcrux had been destroyed. He didn't doubt that the summoning charm would fail. Magic would not let him down. But it was different to call something that was missing. He had known that his cloak was in the master bedroom in Grimmault place. The stone on the other hand…

_Whiii_

Harry heard something small whistle on the air as it fell. He looked up and the ring smacked him on the head. On his eye to be exact.

"Damn, bloody, hell!" He shouted and danced from one leg to another while keeping his palm over his eye with a cooling charm. He glared at the rock with his one good eye.

"Why'd you do that?" He asked accusingly.

Maybe all the hallows were a tad miffed at him because he had abandoned tried to. Could magical objects have that sort of feelings? Harry immediately thought of Hogwarts and Riddle's diary and his wand and was assured the ring had done this on purpose.

Without thinking he picked it up. He was also still wearing his father's cloak and the wand. It had been a while since the hallows had been united and this time it was with their master. He had not kept them together since those fleeting moments in his last year of school and even then he had not claimed to be their master. A golden cyclone grew around him.

"No, no, no, no. Bad hallows," Harry moaned as he watched the cyclone rip into the purple mist. He had half a mind to conjure a newspaper and smack the wand and the stone with it. He was pretty sure his cloak had nothing to do with this. That was the good hallow.

He noticed the mist was getting more and more dispersed and vast. He had to do something.

"STOP!" Harry shouted and watched in wonder as the golden haze of the hallows formed a large circle around him. Entrapping the restless purple mist.

"This can't be good. What to do? What to do..." He could feel the need to hurry. Nothing could hold magic like that for very long. He didn't even want to try. He was getting very bad vibes from it. He was currently poking a sleeping dragon.

Harry couldn't just make the mist disappear. That would leave a void and if he was some ancient entity of magic and someone came and vanished his left buttock, he would take an offence. And if he just popped his magic away, that wouldn't do a thing to calm the mist. Maybe if he filtered it back slowly...

Harry was concentrating on what he wanted the magic to do. It felt so surreal. After all, most of his life, he had believed you had to know the incantation and right wand movements and here he was, trying to talk with magic directly.

He shook his head. Now was not a time for a Hermione-moment.

Inch by inch the ball of magic grew smaller while it left a pacified mist in its wake. This was the first time in a long while when Harry didn't feel in control when he performed magic. And how could he when he didn't know what he was doing. He was just flying by the moment. It was instinctual.

When it was over, he was left standing next to his collapsed tent wondering if it was time to start today's journey. Perhaps towards west again, just in case someone had once more noticed him tinkering around.

"This is getting ridiculous. I don't even know if someone is after me…"

~o~

Harry was flying with good speed. It might've been just his imagination but he thought his broom flew better now that it had some experience under it. Not that it still flew any higher than ten feet and it also liked to drift a little bit here and there and plunge to the ground occasionally.

He had counted that he had travelled approximately 400 miles by now. The misty mountains were left behind and the place he was flying over now was called Eregion. In a few days he was supposed to cross the river Hoarwell and then he figured his best bet was to find the old Greenway. There he was sure to stumble upon the first men around here. The Greenway was still the most used road from south to either north or most often, to the western shoreline.

He was a bit excited now. He really wanted to meet men here and maybe find a wizard or two. Neither the elf nor the orc had a clear picture of the race of men. Only impressions. The elf's were so old that they were practically useless and the orc planned a menu every time it saw a man.

Harry was also eager to try out his hallows or rather his father's cloak and he couldn't help but wonder if the ring would help him connect to home or if a spell cast with the elder wand would actually bring him there. It frustrated him that all he knew about the hallows came from children stories. He had no idea what they really meant to him. Sure, he seemed to be immortal when wearing them and he played with the idea that one of those trains in the between worlds could also be a way home. Unfortunately he would have to 'die' here first. It might be something to look into later if nothing else worked. Maybe.

Harry was also still awed about his discoveries of this place. He could still feel the magic around him and couldn't shrug off the memory of his time studying it. He had felt so small, so connected, so protected and so- welcome.

~o~

"I've never been gladder to be on a broom as I am now," Harry muttered while he flew over the Swanfleet swamp. It was getting late and he had counted on being well past this place by now. His little rest earlier in the day had done nothing good to his schedule. Also, the orcs as a race had either lousy sense of smell or then they liked odd things. There was nothing in the memories he'd seen about the foul smell here but this place stank. A lot.

Harry wanted to find a good place to spend the night as the river was still far ahead of him. He felt that he was becoming tired of all this travelling. He did want to see the world but not as much as he wanted to find a way back home. He'd been over a week on this journey by now and mostly spent it by himself. That was not fun.

He was also tired of travelling this slowly but it would be even more awful to travel by muggle means which here meant that he would be forced to do all this by foot or on a horse. At least after this he would really appreciate magical travel. Even flooing seemed a good choice now though he really disliked it as it left him spitting soot and sprawled on the floor. But if it would get him from one end of the country to other in less than a minute, then he'd love it.

Harry was still getting used to this new way of using magic. He was so connected to it and his magic was something to new to it. Using spells was slower when it moved along the mist. But there were no ripples. Harry grinned happily. Things were finally beginning to make sense.

He had decided that tonight he would need to scrub himself clean and also clean his clothes or rather just his shirt. He would just vanish the rest. He also missed real clothes that didn't just disappear or change colors randomly.

Harry had transfigured himself a bathtub inside his tent and filled it with hot water. He had super luxus extra soft towels waiting for him when he was done. It all felt so homey. Here he had familiar magical things surrounding him. He could almost believe Grimmault place was awaiting on the other side of the walls.

Harry frowned, he couldn't really tell if these bouts of homesickness were really him or happened because he was somehow younger. He noticed he acted differently most of the time, reminding himself of time before Hogwarts. It was not good.

He enjoyed scrubbing his head with soap and the dived under the water. It was heavenly. Cleaning charms were nothing compared to this.

He came out the bath squeaky clean and wrapped the huge soft towels around him. He tiptoed to sit in front of the fire and drink some hot cocoa. Chocolate always made him feel better.

He had tried to make his clothes as presentable as he could. Considering it might be tomorrow that he got to meet other people.

His shirt was now a bit smaller, fitting him better. Or that was what he hoped. He had also changed it to dark blue. He had transfigured himself a leather belt from a twig and also leather boots. He was no expert on fashion but hopefully he wouldn't look like a clown. He had also brand new dark brown trousers. All in child sizes. He had wondered if he should appear as an adult but it would be risky considering he would get shorter and shorter by the hour.

It might be hard to explain why a child was wandering around here in the wild but it wasn't long till the first small village. He could just say that he was from one of those.

Harry went to bed, happily dreaming of possibilities of tomorrow.

~o~

A/n. I hope it shows that this chapter came together much more smoothly than the last one. I decided to upload this as well, considering the last one was so… different.

Someone asked me if I could do an interlude with the elves… I was thinking about the same thing but honestly, I feel a bit daunted by them. I'll try to see what I can do. In any case, we will see some elves in a few chapters.

I'll probably update fast again. I'm enjoying it while it lasts


	8. Master Of Death, Master Of The Dead?

**Chapter Eight - ****Master Of Death, Master Of The Dead?**  


Next morning Harry was again up before sunrise. He had not been a morning person before, not really. But it was very energizing to be up at this hour. He sat outside the tent, watched the sun rise above the grassy ocean and drank tea from his cute periwinkle blue cup. Mrs Weasley had once said that if one managed to see a sunrise, then you should make a wish and it would happen. Hermione had agreed but she had said it was also a muggle belief and something to do with angels. Harry figured if it was something that was known in both worlds, it had to have a seed of truth.

He contemplated for a while about what to wish for. He thought of wishing to see his friends again, he would like to see them all happy. He would like to be happy himself. Then he remembered his life a week earlier, how hectic and overly cautious it had been. He sighed.

"I wish… I wish we could all just be happy," Harry whispered into the quiet morning. "I wish my friends could stop worrying about me." Then again, he was one to talk. He had worried about them above all else.

The whole world was filled with dewdrops that shone in the sun. It was still a bit nippy but as the day would grow older, it would get comfortably warm. Harry felt a bit giddy and eager to get moving already.

He gulped down the rest of his tea and begun to put his things together. He had sort of given up on remembering the right runes to fold the tent. He would probably remember them as soon as he forgot to try. Now he simply pointed his wand at everything and they turned tiny enough for him to pack them up. It was great to have a wand again. There was nothing wrong with wandless magic but he really hadn't used it that much before. Magic was magic, it was simply easier to guide it with a wand. Even the elder wand. Packing up was easy since he didn't really have that much stuff. Oh the woes of magical camping. Not having a bedside table with a lamp.

Harry snickered. He really was complaining over nothing. Besides, he decided the miniature things were pretty fun as he watched his table horse around with the chairs. It seemed the constant use of magic on them made them a little bit sentient.

In half an hour he was on the road again. He had decided to walk for a while. He felt anxious and this would be a good way to use that energy. Also, he didn't want anyone to see him on a broom. No matter that there would hardly be anyone on this side of the river. And using magic was a huge no no. He didn't dare risk stumbling upon more Nazguls.

He knew there was an ancient bridge, The Bruinen bridge, down south but he was planning on crossing the river much more north. He thought the river was still called Hoarvell at this point but it might just as well be The Bruinen. He couldn't really say for sure from the elf's memories. He had decided that should the opporturnity present itself, he would really want to visit a library in this country. If there was any. He was pretty sure at least the elves were writing history down. It was a wholly different thing if he wanted to visit their library.

At noon and after eating a small snack, Harry had changed his mind and hopped on his broom. He really wished he could've mastered the apparition here but it was no use. But now he just wanted to fly, to feel the wind and sunshine on his skin and get some more speed.

An hour after that he had finally arrived at the river. It was huge! Almost as wide as Anduin had been.

Harry thought of going even norther but that would really just take more time. He could just as easily cross the river here, no matter how fast flowing and wide it was. He was going to fly so it wouldn't matter.

Just to be on the safe side, Harry cast water repelling charms on everything. Then he mounted his broom and kicked off.

It really wasn't that difficult. His Potter Plough was smoothly flyi... "Not now!" Harry yelped as his broom begun drifting downwards and was slowly losing momentum.

"Get up! Get up you bloody pile of twigs!" Harry smacked his broom which did absolutely nothing to help the situation.

He thought of what to do. He had to do something otherwise the river would just gobble him up.

"Repulso!" He shouted while aiming his hand towards the river. There was a huge splash while he went soaring towards the sky. There was a moment there when he was higher than he had ever been here. He could see everything. The view was pretty impressive. His broom hovered for a few seconds, and then he plummeted back down again much faster than before.

He had just a few seconds before hitting the water so he tried to focus on his broom and chanted the hovering charm. There was a slight chance it would boost the failing charm on the broom.

It was sort of useless when he plunged into the river and it was sort of success when he popped right back up and the broom leveled at nine feet and continued on its way happily.

"Great, just great. Do I have to get soaked in every river there is?" Harry muttered and didn't dare to cast a drying charm right now. It might just cause the broom to malfunction. After getting on the other side he felt like he was not dripping that much. In any case, the sun would dry him out.

~o~

It had to be afternoon when Harry stopped. He still hadn't cast a single tempus spell here. Time really didn't matter anyways.

But he was regretting of not stopping and drying himself properly. He had been right when he predicted rain in the morning. Well, more like a drizzle.

"Achoo!" He sneezed. Everywhere seemed to hurt and his nose was runny.

"Jus' gread." Harry was absolutely miserable when he was trying to warm himself up. He had put up his tent, a little shoddily as it was tilted to left but he just didn't have any energy to care. He had a fire in his stove and he had dragged his bed next to it. Currently he was laying under three blankets and still he was shivering.

He had a nice hot mushroom soup in the kettle. It was mostly conjured up, not that it mattered because he couldn't taste anything. He had cast a healing charm on himself, unfortunately it seemed Pomfrey had known what she was talking with the pepper up potion.

"Maybe I co – _atchoo _– giv' id ago," Harry pondered. "Might 'et id right. Mighd ged poison. Hmm... Choises, ch –_ atchoo _– "

Harry sneezed into a napkin that after his sneeze was the size of a blanket. "Oops, mite be bedder to jus' leave id." This flu obviously made his magic a bit wonky.

Miserable, Harry burrowed deep under his bedding and slept the day away restlessly.

~o~

Next morning was long since passed when Harry finally woke up. He felt as strong as a kitten. His soup had become mush and dried out. He was really thankful for magic now when he called a cup into his hands and it instantly filled with steaming hot tea.

"Mmmm, dis is nice," he sipped his tea while planning on what to do now. He was in no shape to walk or even fly, yet he didn't want to be a day or two behind. He had never had a simple flu this awful.

"I god id!" He finally rasped as a solution came to him and instantly moaned. He had a headache as big as a mountain.

An hour later Harry was still happily lazing the day away in his bed. His tent and rest of his things were packed in his bag. Just his bed and blankets were left out. The bed wobbled a bit but otherwise it was smooth going with all four its feet charmed to act as legs. It had been a bit bumpy at first but once the rocky ground was left behind, the bed seemed eager to act as a carriage. Harry had just pointed a direction of where to go and cast a small notice-me-not charm. He really couldn't explain this away. Before long, his fever and stress during the past week finally overcame him and as the bed bobbed on, Harry slept deeply curled up around a pillow.

Later that same day Harry had to admit that maybe it would've been better if he had stayed awake the whole time but it was so easy to fall in sleep when you were sick, warm, getting fresh air and the bed was swinging so softly. Perhaps the bed had thought itself a sheep or a cow because it seemed to have stopped to graze at some point. The grass kept on vanishing but Harry couldn't figure out how or where to.

"Whoa," he decided to try and get up a bit, it just seemed his feet weren't ready yet. "I need something to eat. Eat. Eeaattt. YES! I can talk again." Harry smacked his lips together and couldn't help but laugh.

Being able to say your t's was enough cause for a celebration so Harry made a bowl of chicken broth and a ham sandwich with extra thick ham slices.

While he was there and watched the scenery, he realized that he had, or his bed had found the Greenway. It was just down the hill. From up here he could see the clear curve in the woods where they had been hacked off. The road twisted between the hills and towards north.

"Good bed," Harry patted his wooden headboard. The bed wiggled.

After finishing his meal, he took his wand and directed the bed downhill towards the road.

It really wasn't. A road that is. And he wasn't likely to come across anyone anytime soon unlike he had hoped. The Greenway was like its name said. Very Green. So green in fact that it was hard to see the road from the grass. It was obvious that this way was no longer used or at least not very often. It still led to the right direction of course and nothing would prevent Harry from travelling by it but he wouldn't meet any men for a while still. He was a bit disappointed.

~o~

Harry was bored. He was feeling much better, so much so, that he tried a little sky diving. That really didn't work from the heights his broom could climb. He tried figure flying which was fun for a while. He made eight's and pretended to be in a sea and ride the waves. Then he played a game of nabbing the flowers.

The Greenway was a bit spooky. It looked so inviting, so green and light. It looked like someone should live alongside it but now that he was on it, it felt like a ghostway. When that night came, Harry added some serious repelling wards around his tent. He figured that it didn't matter if he was imagining the boogie men or not, his gut feeling was usually worth to listen to.

He laid awake longer than normal, listening to the sound of the woods. He knew he was as safe as he could possibly be. He had spent an hour on the wards. He had a fire going outside the tent though no one could see it. He had lighted it when it had gotten dark. He just didn't want to be alone. On a rational side he knew there was less to be afraid here than during other days in his journey. He had slept without any wards on a meadow that was directly in the path of orcs! Yet he couldn't help but want some light around him. His heart was thundering.

"Soon I'm going to start checking if I have something under my bed," Harry whispered and drew his blanket over his head. He closed his eyes, turned, twisted around, molded his pillow, turned again. He peeped from under his blankets and sighed. Then he rolled sideways and peeked under his bed. There was nothing there.

Next morning it was as if there had been nothing to feel fear about. Birds were singing and sun was shining. Yet Harry couldn't help the spike of relief when he saw hills up ahead. That meant that he was getting close to the Barrow Downs.

He kept his speed up to reach the hills that day and himself under a notice-me-not charm just in case he would stumble upon some other travelers.

~o~

Harry had plenty of time before sunset when he reached the first hill. He hadn't even eaten supper yet. But it was about time that he would.

He dismounted his broom and picked up his miniature table from his bag. He returned it to real size as well as one chair. Then with a flick of his wrist he had a sharp knife on his hand. A pile of peeled potatoes appeared on the table and a pan.

Harry swiftly cut the potatoes in cubes. Snape would probably be furious if he knew where a Potter used his potion making skills. After the potatoes, Harry added some sliced carrots and other vegetables, then he cut up two pieces of sausage. Then he poured in broth to cover it all and made a small fire to boil it all warm.

He ate his soup with gusto. Newly conjured warm bread and cold milk was really good when he was hungry. He packed up with what was left. A nap would've been great at that point but Harry decided that maybe he could keep his eyes open for a little longer.

He didn't really know what awaited him in the Barrows. The elves had not tracked there. Neither had the orc visited there. He got a different feeling from the place that what the southern Greenway had been. This was more serious.

His broom also seemed out of sort. It kept swerving and dipping the whole time. After passing the third hill, Harry decided that it needed some rest. He had used it a lot in the last few days. He could very well trek this evening. His plan was to head to the town of Bree which should be the biggest village on this side of Misty Mountains if you didn't count the harbors. It was also the western most trade spot for men seeing their race mostly lived in the southern planes and around the place called Gondor.

"Perhaps that is why this road is disused," Harry tried to figure it all out. He would really like to read some history books of this place. This land was so vast and so few lived in it despite it having a very long history.

~o~

Harry was already searching for a place where he could spent the night when he saw a shimmer of light that was around a mile ahead. It was beginning to get foggy and the place was giving him the creeps. There was someone following him. He had imagined seeing a thin stick figure at times and then he saw shadows. This light ahead might mean real people, so he decided he should investigate.

Harry walked around the hill ahead and then sneaked upwards to hide behind a huge rock. He could hear mumbling and quiet talking.

When he peeked from his hiding place, he could see three men sitting around a small fire. There were two horses tied up behind them. The men looked cold, one of them was trying to keep his hands closer to the fire and rubbed them together.

Two of them looked a bit alike, so Harry figured they could be brothers. The last one, who was coldest and shivering a little, had lighter hair and it almost looked like straws were stuck to his head. So dry and brittle, sticking up here and there.

"Er's givin me the creeps," the willowy looking man said.

"Don't worry, Matty, we'll be on our way in the morning' an' leave these cursed hills behind us," the bigger brother answered. It was obvious he was trying to look tough but that didn't do much because he still looked over his shoulder somewhat nervously.

"We 'ad to come through 'ere," the younger of the brothers said. "'Dis the shortest way to south."

The older brother looked around. "I didn't think it would be this way. I would've taken us another route but we'll make it through tonight and continue morrow early on."

"I – I think I saw something," the thin man, Matty, said. "Not trying to scare or play around. I dink we're not alone."

"Dis was burial ground in history," the younger brother grunted. "Or so a story told when I was just a lad."

"It was not so many months ago than you were just a lad brother," the older smirked.

"Now boys, no horse play. If it weren't so dangerous to travel by night we would. Now we have to sit and watch the fire. They say the wrights fear it."

"Luck is not on our side then," one of the brothers stated. "Most of the wood is damp."

Harry watched them for a while. Simply enjoying the knowledge of seeing someone like him here. He was curious to know more of them. He sent his magic to shift around the men. It was easy, seeing as they were scared, disorganized and didn't have a single drop of magic in them. Actually none of the men had ever even seen a wizard.

Harry sighed but decided to stick around for a bit. He didn't think it would go over well if he just came out of the fog. The men were simple but seemed strong and their blades sharp. He wouldn't win anything if he introduced himself only to have to obliviate them a moment later. Though it would've been fun to talk with someone at least.

~o~

After an hour or so, Harry had heard more rowdy jokes than during his five years in Gryffindor dormitory. Granted they had been kids back then. He was glad he hadn't shown himself to these men. Not that they were evil or bad, just restless and somewhat desperate. They came from north of Bree where the year had not been good. Desperate people did desperate things at times. It seemed, from what Harry gathered from their surface thoughts, that these men had crossed a limit somewhere. They had lived so thin for so long their ethics had blurred. Funny thing was these men were usually those you didn't want to meet in a dark alley. Here in the Barrows they were jumpy as mice.

Not that they didn't have a reason to. Harry noticed that for some reason Matty seemed to have a couple of spirits hanging around him. It had taken him a while to notice them but being the master of death or more likely master of dead, brought a few perks. If you wanted to call it that.

Harry wasn't sure why the spirits were hanging around the man. Had Matty had them for long or was it this place that had lured them there. He guessed it was his first because it seemed the spirits were bored. They were hardly there. Harry had to squint a bit to see them. First he had thought they were just mist.

The spirits were sort of funny. There was a young girl with piglets, an old man obsessed with his pipe and a boy. The boy was older than the girl. The man sat the furthest away, smoking pipe. The smoke from it made seeing the spirits all the harder. Harry couldn't get a good look at him. The teenage boy was always hovering over Matty, mimicking whatever the man said. The little girl found it all very funny. She was clutching the hem of her skirt and buried her face in it from time to time.

When the three real travels were making their beds, Harry decided to try and have a word with the spirits. The older brother was the first to keep watch while Matty and the willow man slept. Unfortuntely for Harry, his quarry was the one with bad blood circulation and such slept closest to the fire.

"Dormio," Harry whispered, although he didn't know why he bothered. The older brother was already blinking sleepily. When the spell hit him, he was knocked backwards and begun snoring.

Harry walked to sit next to Matty. The spirits didn't seem that interested in him. They weren't really ghosts and he still couldn't see them any better now that he was practically standing next to them. Nor were they tied to this man, not really. They could still remain here even after Matty passed.

"Where do you come from?" Harry asked quietly from the little girl sitting on the ground.

The girl didn't acknowledge Harry in any way.

"Er..." Harry thought of what to do. He wasn't interested in the men anymore but he did want to know what these spirits were. They could be magical. "Hi!"

As the girl still remained unmoving, Harry poked her. He didn't expect her to feel so solid. She looked like he could just blow her away.

The girl shrieked.

"Sorry, sorry. I mean no harm," Harry back-pedaled and lifted his hands up. "Just wanted to chat a bit and they're," he pointed at the trio of men. "Asleep already." He gave the girl what he hoped to be an honest smile.

She came closer to him and tried to poke him back. Unfortunately or fortunately her fingers just vanished without Harry feeling a thing. He sort of preferred it that way.

Harry hadn't noticed it but the other two spirits had immediately come closer when he had begun to talk to the girl.

"You can see her, laddi?" The old man with the pipe asked from behind Harry.

It was Harry's turn to shot up and muffle his scream. Very manlish scream of course.

"Don't sneak up on me like that," he wheezed. "You could kill someone like that."

"Aye, but yer don't have to worry about that for a few decades boy," the old man smarted back.

That was when Harry remembered, again, that he was tiny and looked like a five year old.

"Yeah," he rubbed the back of his head. Uncomfortable. "But it still stands."

"You can... you really can see and hear us? Right?" The teen age boy asked eagerly. "Honorian, he really can! Do you know what this means?"

"Shush up boy," the old man chided.

"But Honory, he can!" The little girl said, as self-assuredly as a girl her age could.

"Yeah, I really can," Harry confirmed and smiled at the girl. "Do you mind telling me where you are from and what are you doing here like... like... well, as you are?"

"Don't really see how it is any of your business..." Honorian answered at the same time the boy begun explaining; "We had no idea. I woke up far from my village..."

They both shut up the same time, both glowering at each other.

"They just found me!" The girl piped up.

The boy gave the old man a pleading look. "We can tell him... where's the harm really?"

The old man closed his eyes and took a deep breath of his pipe. Although Harry couldn't really see if it was lighted or not. Or if it even could be.

Then the old man nodded and pointed both of the children to go and sit behind him.

"Whats yer name boy?" The man asked.

"Harry, I'm Harry."

"Well, pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am called Honorian and I am trader from a northern village. This here is Reuel, a smitty's son though I am not sure where his village lies. And the girl is called Siega. A mighty name for such a tiny thing I always say," The man sounded more and more pompous as he went on.

Harry fought back his smile and simply nodded. He felt like someone combining his Uncle and Percy was telling him the story.

"Now, young one," Honorian asked, trying but failing to hide his eagerness. "How is it that you can see us?"

"No one has before?" Harry asked interested.

The man sighed. "No."

"And it is not like we have not tried," the boy jumped up which only earned him a glare from the old man. "Well we did!" The boy defended himself.

The old man harrumphed but eventually answered, "T's true. None can see us, none can hear us. Seems none care. That is until you came along."

"Hmm... I can't really say why," Harry didn't want to start the whole explanation of magic but seeing their disappointed faces, he added, "But my mother once said her great-grandfather had some magic or something. Maybe that carried on in my blood."

"Magic you say?" Honorian was puzzling over the tidbit of information. "Wizards then?" He muttered to himself. "But they never..." Honorian seemed to fade into his own memories.

Seeing the old one was out of the way, the boy and girl eagerly crowded on Harry.

"Have you seen more of us?"

"What can you tell us?"

Dozen questions made one thing very clear to Harry. These spirits didn't know more than he did, about being a spirit.

"All right, all right, I tell you all which is not much. I can hardly see you. You are like made of clowds to me. And you are the first of your kind I have seen," Harry explained what little did he know. Carefully he spoke around the fact that did they know they were dead. Not all spirits did. But all three of them had returned to their villages. Siega didn't want to talk about that at all. Reuel said it looked like had passed by between how he remembered his home being and how it was when he got there.

"I don't know what to tell you more," Harry finished. "Maybe there's a reason you are here? You know, you have something to do still."

"Really?" The girls asked with wide eyes.

"Perhaps," Harry nodded. "Why are you hanging around him?" He nodded to the sleeping man.

"Oh, he is just fun. After a time everything gets so boring and he is fun when we can make him all nervous," Reyel smiled widely. "Just like my own brother was." He then went to try and poke the sleeping man. And just like Honorian, Reuel seemed to forget Harry was even around anymore.

"I wish I could sleep," the little girl sighed.

Harry patted her on the head. It seemed that these spirits were a little disjointed.

"What else do you want?" Harry asked.

The girl looked up at him and smiled toothily, "I want to see the sun again!"

"Can't you see it tomorrow morning?"

"No, not really. We always go away when it gets bright," the girl said sadly.

Harry felt pity at these three. How long must they have been here.

"Tell you what, Siega. What would you say if I said I could send you along?" Harry asked and the girl turned to look at him. "Send you to be with your parents?"

"My mother? But she is no longer here. They said she died," the girl questioned.

"Yes, but she is beyond then now. In a world where only ghosts live," he tried to explain. "I think you were just left behind."

The girl looked thoughtful and Harry realized she must be very old. There were glimpses now and then when he could read it from her eyes. The way she frowned her mouth like adults did. Yet he saw her still acting like a small girl.

Then the girl shook her head, her piglet flying around. "No, I don't wanna go. I wanna stay here with Honory and Rei."

And that was that, as far as Harry was concerned. He had been about to use his hallow powers but had been unsure. The three weren't really ghosts so maybe some part of them had already passed. Or maybe they were really nature spirits or something alike and that they never even had been human. Who knew really and who was he to meddle.

Siega spent a while sitting next to him until she got up and went to poke the sleeping Matty.

Harry wasn't sure if they even remembered him anymore. They seemed harmless enough. And if the girl had been right, they would vanish soon. He could already see the sky lighten to give away to day.

Harry walked back from the camp, a few hills to the left. He did intend to sleep a little longer. It was a miracle he had stayed awake this long. He noticed a shadowy nook and headed there.

He had a feeling that someone was watching him but figured it might be the spirits. When he could hardly see the light of the campfire he had left behind, the uneasy feeling from earlier returned.

Harry saw movement from the corner of his eye. He turned to look but once more there was nothing. He was battling between what he knew he should do and his inner child's command to run and hide.

Suddenly a black mist rolled at him and his body made his decision as it turned and hightailed it out of there.

"Bloody hell," Harry cursed as he jumped over tree roots. "Why am I running again? It's not like it can really hurt me." He knew saying it aloud probably jinxed it and so he kept running.

Then he became in a dead end.

"Great, I've been herded around," he muttered and turned around. "Let's see then what it is that's gonna try and kill me." Harry knew it was arrogant of him but really, he was rather hard to get rid of.

It took a minute but the black mist rolled around the bend. All Harry could really make out were two boney hands and the eyes. He heard clinks of rings in the air. As if someone was carrying heavy jewelry. The air was also getting colder.

"Now you look more like the scary ghost that fall under my expertise," he said.

The wraith didn't deign him important enough to answer but it looked at him hungrily.

Harry got a lonely feeling from the surrounding area. He looked at the hills more carefully.

"Burial mounds!" He exclaimed. "They made the road pass burial mounds." He shook his head. "Idiots."

Then he turned to the wraith that was closing in.

"I have no quarrel with you. You leave me alone and I shall leave you."

The spirit didn't answer but it did slow down, even though it wasn't eager to do so.

Harry frowned. There was something here, he felt as if he could somehow connect with the wright.

"Stop!" Harry said and looked carefully at the thing.

It did stop, as if unable to come closer. Though it wanted to. It was clawing air around it and howling.

"Who – are – you?" It growled. The land around it got frosty.

Harry figured he should feel cold as the grass turned white, but he didn't. He looked at the resurrection stone that sat on the ring in his finger.

He sighed, "I guessed as much." Then he took the resurrection stone in his hand. He had his elder wand in the other.

"It's time for you to find some rest," he stated and brought his wand down swiftly.

At the same moment, sun's first rays tipped over the hills. Harry couldn't be sure if it was his spell or the sunlight that vanished the wraith. If it was him, it was gone for good. If not, then it would be back wandering here soon enough.

Harry looked at the two hallows and muttered, "Interesting." Would it work without the hallows? What was this power he had? He hadn't had time to test it the last time he carried all three of them. He didn't feel any different now that he had them. What creatures fell under his power?

Harry sighed. He should just leave this place but he couldn't. These soldiers and others had clearly not found their way to after life and ever since his own little soiree in the land of the dead, he felt it was sort of his responsibility to guide them whenever he could. He was sure there was a paid reaper somewhere but he would do what he could.

So Harry spent the morning wandering around the Barrow-downs and chanting quietly. He was weaving a white ribbon of magic behind him. It turned into runes at the right places. Runes of peace and guidance and death. He hoped it would be enough. It should, _should,_ point the dead to the right way. Actually it should push them on a little forcefully but the job would be done. It was time this place was finally silenced and given peace.

~o~

tbc.

a/n. Sorry this came out this late. I had an awful flu. I have also been pondering about Harry and how he is changing. How many of you readers find yourself annoyed by him? Or do you perhaps like him like this? Why? Has the change been subtle enough or really, really obvious? Opinions are welcome.


	9. Bree

**Ch.9 Bree**

_What has happened thus far? One morning Harry Potter woke up without a memory of the last night or any knowledge of where he was. Soon it became clear he wasn't kidnapped nor pranked nor was a diehard fan involved either. Harry is journeying to find a way back home and he has been travelling slowly, in the hopes of meeting someone who could be able to help him. He has met orcs and elves, didn't like either. Harry also seems to be changing in every way. For example he is now far shorter than before. Luckily he has kept his memories and his his magic is a bit wonky and it seems to be because of this world he is in which doesn't remember home at all. In the previous chapter Harry met a Nazgûl and some men and a few spirits._

After leaving the Barrows behind him, Harry trekked on nicely for a while. But he felt like he was getting nowhere fast. There seemed to be so much to see now that he was clearly getting closer to a town. The trees here were wonderful climbing material and he always spotted something he had to investigate. In his last climb he had found this crooked wooden sign, very worn, where he could barely make out words; "Bree, 7 leagues". That had made him think for a while. How long was a league exactly?

The orcs seemed to measure things by days or trees or by rods. Which he didn't get. Who said which rod was used and was it like a walking stick which you carried along and was it the length of the stick or maybe the space between when you hit the stick on the ground while you walked.

The elves on the other hand used days as well. They measured just about everything. Unfortunately, Erewan mostly left that stuff for other elves to do and Harry didn't have any memories of Erewan's when the elf was younger and had to do them. Those memories were a bunch of fragments, very hard to read.

Harry had figured a league was like with those seven league boots where the boy had ran for seven hours to reach. So maybe it would take him that long to get to Bree. In any case it seemed he would, maybe, reach that town today!

He continued to climb the trees to keep a look out for any smoke or higher towers ahead. Like said, the trees were much better here. They didn't talk that much and were much younger. So they just sort of hummed which was fine by him. And after he got away from the burial grounds and swamp land, a lot of small animals were popping up. Harry had seen a hare, lots of squirrels, a deer, some sort of rat animal that burrowed whenever he got closer. That had taken some time when he tried to catch it only to realize there had to be over a dozen of them underground.

Harry laughed at that. Seriously, this land was immense and yet there were only few beings living in it. Sure here was diversity with the elves and the Orc's and what he could see from the Orc's memories, Goblins and Tribe men and Trolls and there were even Giants and many other beings Harry couldn't put a name to. But the numbers were still much smaller than what he was used to. Here was a lot of room for everybody.

That also explained why it was so ridiculously hard to find anyone here.

"Maybe it's time for a snack," Harry mused and then he went in search of a nice place to rest. Perhaps another tree, he just had to find the right one with thick lower branches that were easy to climb.

Harry was not unaware that his breaks had gotten more numerous. He sure could run in circles endlessly or chase after something new or interesting but actually travelling with a purpose... No, couldn't do it. His child stamina instantly shimmered down to nothing. It wasn't like he didn't want to go home, he did. Very much.

After his little brunch, for he had already had breakfast and this couldn't really be called a lunch, Harry decided to quit dallying and dug his broom out as well as his invisibility cloak. He got a warm rush in his belly every time he touched the hallows. They were his. The cloak had followed him all this way and it was really useful now because soon, he was sure of it, he would come across people. He had tried to deny it but he had been sort of afraid, a little. Because maybe there were no other humans around. Maybe the orcs had eaten them all. Meeting Matty and the other travelers last night had really taken a weight off his shoulders. Yet he was still lagging his feet before the very first town he had come across.

In any case his cloak was important now, who knew how others might react to a child riding on a broom? He didn't want to be knows as some demon child right away. Better yet, he didn't want to be known at all. He was on a mission to find information. A spy of a sort.

Harry draped the cloak over himself carefully and attached it with plenty of sticking charms. It was the first time it was helpful to be this tiny. The cloak was enough to cover both him and his broom. Well, it really was enough to cover his broom but since he was so teeny tiny insignificant midget that he could squeeze into anything, it was alright. He simply laid on his broom.

Despite the sticking charms Harry didn't want to push his luck and so he drifted onwards on a very leisure pace. He sort of wanted to twirl his fingers in the grass which felt and looked a lot like a huge green lake when the wind blew across it. It was fun. It had been a while since he had fun.

~o~

_Bree 7 miles_

"Seven again!" Harry read annoyed. It was only the second signpost he saw but already he was fed up with them. At least he knew how long a mile was. If mile was a mile. There must've been other signs but maybe time had eroded them away and no one had bothered to replace them. Everything couldn't be measured in septets!

He was just coming out a quaint little forest, those seemed to pop up every now and then. They seemed to be filled with smaller animals from birds and squarrels to rabbits. He even saw few foxes and thought he saw a small boar but couldn't be sure. When Harry climbed as high as his broom went, he could see fields further away that looked heavy and yellow with grain. After the Barrows there was no signs of struggles anywhere. This seemed a very calm place to live in. No orcs and he hadn't sighted any trolls either or their tracks or caves.

"Funny," Harry thought out loud. "How there are so many same animals here and home. Trolls, wolves, wizards..." And he was sure there would be loads more once he learnt about them. Maybe even dragons! That would be cool.

Harry sniggered. If it only were so, then he might find out that he really was in some magical island, cut off from everything and yet still in his old world. That would be nice.

~o~

Harry sat in a faraway tree and watched the wooden gate of Bree. He was finally here. The gate was wide open and people milled in and out every so often. There was a gatekeeper but no other guard.

Harry had to admit it, he felt disappointed. He had waited to see a town for so long here. Of course he had known it wouldn't be like any muggle city but he had sort of hoped it, at least, was similar to Diagon alley or Hogsmeade. And maybe, in some ways it was. It certainly looked medieval. It was also bigger, dirtier and noisier. It was very … brown. Nothing there seemed new.

People were walking through the gate, the road was not covered but simply hardened earth. It wasn't that he was a snooty little kid expecting luxury and gold paved roads. It was that now it really hit home and hard that he was somewhere very different. Harry had known to expect this but he had sort of figured they might still have microwave ovens and black and white tv. Even in Britain the muggle world and magical world lived in ignorant harmony, so why not so here. He really hadn't thought this through. It couldn't depress him anymore that there obviously was no help here to get him back home.

There was a woman coming out of the village. She was wearing plain brown skirt and blouse with grey apron. Very practical. She even had a small white coif on her head. She talked shortly with the gatekeeper and they laughed. Another women, this one a bit older and pudgier, followed and seemed to scold the younger. They both headed towards the forest with their baskets.

Harry took a bite of his apple, nicked from the tree he was sitting on, and pondered of how he was going to handle this.

He didn't think there would be anything in this village to help him get home today or tomorrow. He might hear some information, that is, if he didn't become the next town gossip target. And he also could get some decent clothes and maybe a more permanent tent. That would make it a lot easier to move around and make camp. There was probably a blacksmith in town where he could get a sword and some material into which he could better draw his protection runes on. He might even find a horse... or not. Krull-experience had not really taught him how to ride. Maybe it was best to discard that from his shopping list. Not that he even really needed one. And above all, there might be a cartographer in town. He was about ready to kill for a decent map. An accurate map that no elf had been anywhere nearby.

The town of Bree looked like it had seen better days, from where Harry perched at least. It was no wonder, because even in the elf's memories it had been here. Harry didn't plan to stay there for long. An occasional traveller probably didn't gather much attention but a stranger that stayed would.

Next to come out of the gate was someone much shorter. First Harry thought it was a child but it didn't quite move like a child. Not to mention, no matter how safe this area seemed, he doubted anyone would let their offspring wonder outside the city wall when apparently there was no separation from the magical world.

Interested, he jumped on his broom and drifted closer.

"..._tuckinborough and Bree... and mighty fine wine," _his target was singing merrily.

Harry flew ahead of this person to get a better look at him.

First he figured it was a midget but there was something off. It had huge hairy feet and no shoes. Rosy round cheeks and an awful singing voice though the tune was very accurate.

Harry let his legilimency fly and found no resistance. Funnily enough the _hobbit,_ for that was what it was, was singing the exact same tune in his thoughts that it sung out load. No other thoughts occupied its head. It was a novelty.

Harry found himself wanting to stay in that mind for a while longer. Which was the very reason he immediately withdrew. He had always set himself very clear boundaries of what he would use his legilimency power for. Here he had used it a bit nilly willy. But the hobbit's mind had been such a sunny place. Very honest. There was no threat he could say he felt coming from it that would justify disregarding its privacy.

The hobbit was looking the world behind permanent pink glasses. Yes, Flambard Noakes was a very happy hobbit. Typically jolly and jovial and Harry had never seen such a mind before. It was exactly the sort of mind wars were fought for or at least what Harry had fought his war for. For someone like Flambard to be able to be and stay as he was. Not to know any other suffering besides broken hearts and a missed elevensies that made his stomach feel a bit peckish.

Harry stayed where he was and listened to that silly tune until the hobbit disappeared behind the next bend in the path. His own head was filled with images he had grabbed from Noakes. And that was when he got the idea.

~o~

An hour later another hobbit approached the southern gate of Bree.

"What is your business in town of Bree?" The guard asked somewhat bored. Used to hobbits and clearly exasperated by their manners.

"Name's Furontius, Fudge Mugwort that is. I intend to stay the night and visit my cousin, well, actually he's my cousin twice removed. You might know him actually. Seen any Noakes around lately, have you?"

"Noakes?" The guard stroked his beard and looked like he tried to remember when Harrys' passive listening told that in fact all the hobbits were same to him.

He shook his head. "No, doesn't come to mind. You should try the Prancing Pony. They serve hobbits and have good rooms for you as well."

"Ah," Fudge answered. "Might it be your cousin who owns the place then?" And he put his thumbs behind his belt and leaned backwards, important looking.

"Eh?" the guard said.

"Well, for you to recommend it. I did the same too when my sister's husband's nephew had a small stable," Fudge explained eagerly. "Not that he does anymore, though it was a good place. I even fancied buying myself a pony there. Didn't of course but many others did. And just because _I _recommended it. Not that my sister, the nephew or that husband of hers, Gundabalt Gubb ever thanked me for it. Can you believe..."

The hobbit was interrupted by the guard, who seemed like he didn't know whether to be insulted or not. "No, can't say I know a Gubb and the proprietor of Prancing Pony now is Barliman Butterbur. No relative of mine. But off you go now, in the village, before there's more travellers coming."

The hobbit looked around and saw no one. Then he looked at the guard again. He opened his mouth to say something more until he noticed the guards frown and decided otherwise.

The hobbit took a few steps and said, "Well, good man, thank you for the advice then. I shall look for my cousin right after a good supper. Or who knows, he might even find me first!" And then hobbit laughed as if that thought was the funniest thing in the world.

The guard shook his head and grumbled something about halflings before returning to his half nap.

~o~

Harry walked around Bree in his ingenious disguise as Fudge. He was pretty pleased he had come up with such a disguise. Although he had begun to wonder if any hobbit blood had somehow managed to find itself in his own home world and the Fudge family blood there. The former minister certainly ate like a hobbit and looked a little like one as well. Harry shrugged and cleared his head. He had things to do.

Bree reminded him faintly of Diagon Alley. Certainly more than what it looked like from the outside. With its two storey brick and wooden houses with pointy roofs. But it was a lot dirtier than he had thought.

Everywhere he went it smelled. There was garbage on the streets and while the walls of the houses had once been white, they were now no lighter than beige. The layout of the town was a maze. It had been seemingly built over and over and in time, houses had popped up here and there. Many of the streets seemed to actually be dead ends since house was built in the middle of a street. It was an old town and still pretty big. All sorts of people were milling about. Harry could swear that he had seen a dwarf walking around. It had looked a lot like a Gringotts goblins. Armed to the teeth and grumpy. Harry doubted it would go over well if he walked up to one such creature and asked if they had some secret tunnels to earth, preferably to Gringotts, London.

"Damn," he cursed when his feet dropped into a muddy ditch. By the smell, there was something there besides mud. He murmured a silent cleaning spell on his foot, and a second and a third. He really didn't think himself as a neat freak but this place gave him the chills.

Open sewers, no help for the smell, dirt everywhere. No single man seemed to be clean so people probably bathed monthly - or yearly.

Harry was getting a headache. And it didn't help that his hopes of finding help for getting home were crushed. Obviously men couldn't help him.

"Hey! Watch where yer going!" A man shouted at him in a thick common dialect and turned his horse drawn carriage to left.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled and leaned to the side of the house he had just passed. He had arrived in a small market.

It took him a while, an hour or two, but he got more used to Bree. Sure, you had to watch where you stepped and people were a bit rough but overall the town seemed happy and sort of friendly. Simple. To a hobbit at least.

He had picked well with his disguise. There was no fear of his hight lessening. His normal form was too close. People seemed to think all hobbits were peaceful, jolly and harmless. This was probably right. He had seen a few strangers, men, wearing dark robes with hoods and everyone was giving them a wide berth. Rangers, they whispered after the men. One small hobbit gathered no notice.

Harry had also found a few interesting looking shops. One sold '_fine leathers'_ and then there was the '_Travellers trade' _that seemed to have tents and other camping equipment, among other things but most importantly they had some maps. He hadn't found the stables yet but as horses were milling around, he was bound to soon.

On the other side of the market place Harry could see a stall where the town smith seemed to be selling his wares. He decided that he might as well get himself a small sword. Get something off his shopping list.

He passed the small fountain and realized someone was singing behind it. It seemed to be the town's bard or something. There was a small tin cup besides him with a few pennies. That was when Harry realized he was penniless. There would be no shopping before he took care of that.

He hopped to sit on the edge of the fountain and listened to the music while he shifted through the bard's minds, searching for how to use money in here. He was lucky he picked the bard because the man had travelled around. It seemed this Middle Earth place was pretty interesting when it came to the ways of money. What he could use depended a lot of the place he was. Here in Bree they used different sort of balance and currency that they used for instance in south.

There were pennies, a lot of them. Shell pennies and at some places wooden pennies were the smallest. Then there were silver pennies and golden pennies. Those would be best kept on him as they seemed to be the ones he could pay with pretty much everywhere. And he could always get local currency in exchange. If he wanted to buy a house or something he should use arkenstones which were ingots of gold. And if he had precious jewelry or gems, there were often traders in bigger towns that would change them to golden pennies. Luckily the look of the coins was mostly the same. They all had the name of the place where it was made and a printed or burnt mark on them and some sort of serial number to cut down forgeries. Again that was the reason silver and gold pennies could be used in most places because they had their value in precious metal. Unchanged. And no one minted them locally, they all came from the 'capital' in south, mainly because most mines were at that direction. At least mines men used. Wooden pennies could easily be carved but their value was so small not many bothered. And the punishment for forgery was high.

Harry walked around the market and had a look of what things were offered there. Once he spotted a man who looked well off, he nicked a few coins from him. Just to see what he would have to transfigure. It seemed in Bree there was also some sort of copper pennies in use.

Harry popped in a back alley and gathered a handful of pebbles. He used his elder wand for this. He didn't want the money to vanish, at all if possible, and to cause hardship for anyone who had them at the time. He didn't make golden pennies. That was the hardest material to do. But with a swish of his wand he had ten silver pennies and ten copper ones as well. He also conjured a small pouch for them, really missing the mokeskin pouch that Hagrid had given him.

Armed with enough money for now, Harry headed to the smith's tent. The man there was huge. In every way.

"Hello there, my good man," Harry jovially greeted the man.

"Good day to you too hobbit," the smith answered, not bothering to take a second look.

"Fudge Mugwort, that's my name. Visiting my cousin, Noakes. Just as soon as I can find him," Harry paused and looked at the man expectantly. Unfortunately the smitty had nothing to say. "You wouldn't happen to have a decent small blade for a fellow of my size?" Harry asked, inspecting the different wares hanging on the walls. There were a few weapons but mostly cutlery and some armor and things he had seen used on horses. Harry couldn't really say but it looked all right. Heavy but that was the point, wasn't it.

"Not many hobbits carry blades these days," the smith said but turned to Harry, sensing a potential paying customer.

"You can never be too cautious," Harry answered and looked closer at a two bladed sword.

"Perhaps so," the smith said while he was humming and trying to find something. "Only thing I have here that might suit you would be a knife but I do not seem to recollect where I stored it. If you can drop by later today or tomorrow morning at the Smith I will look something suitable for you?"

"All right, it is a deal," Harry grabbed the smith's huge hand and shook it. "We shall meet again tomorrow morning then."

Harry waved at the smith when he departed the stall and headed to get some lunch.

Most taverns he had seen, actually the both of them, seemed a little dubious. So Harry bought some groceries from the market. Couple of apples, few tomatoes, two huge mushrooms, bread, a small piece of cheese and some ham. He had wanted to try the bacon but it was a sunny day and the meat looked a tad brown already. He figured the dried ham would be his best bet. He also didn't think himself prissy when he cast a freshening and cleaning charms on the whole lot. Now, all he needed was a place to cook. He hoped the Prancing Pony would be close.

"Excuse me there," he waved to a young boy a bit taller than him. "Can you tell me which way leads to the Prancing Pony?"

"It's right around the corner. You see those hills there?" The boy asked and pointed over the next house.

To Harry it seemed as if this whole village had been built on a hillside. Which it probably had.

"There's the hobbit holes and the inn," the boy continued.

"Thanks lad," Harry said and gave the boy a copper penny for his troubles.

The boy looked at him with round eyes. "Thank you, sir. Thank you!" He shouted and then ran off merrily.

Harry shook his head. If there was one thing more that made this place different from where he came from it was the people. They seemed more honest and caring some way. Not all of course but they were also more polite even though cruder. It was hard to describe but for instance if he was in London and fell down, people would just mill around him. Maybe stare a bit. At least until they realized who he was. Here a young boy ran after a woman that had dropped an apple and not noticed it. In Diagon alley the purebloods wouldn't deem themselves low enough to bend and help others, they'd just gossip about it. And the muggleborns, well, they were really from London weren't they. Only ones that might help were creatures but they seldomnly dared daylight there or the proprietors. Although many of them would only help the high and mighty purebloods. Harry sighed. Why was he missing home again?

"Next thing I'll see is a knight in a shiny armor here," Harry smiled to himself. It wasn't that big of a stretch. There was after all the smith and armoury here and stables.

He hummed the same song Noakes had sung earlier. About the good road, weed and best way to enjoy it. "_Shire, tuckinborough and Bree. Old road the best pipeweed comes. You take a puff and a cup of mighty fine wine..." _He liked being a hobbit.

~o~

**A/n. I was asked about the lovely cover picture. It's by Sakimichan. I was over the moon that I got permission to use it. I don't think Harry is quite that sad most of the time but when homesickness hits… This and other amazing pieces can be found at . Just google.**

**Thank you loads for all lovely reviews and keeping me in check **** Specially to Dia for making me laugh while kicking my butt with this a bit.**


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